After the Letter
by megosborne
Summary: "You pierce my soul..." Fine words to be sure but when Anne and Frederick's attachment comes under pressure and scrutiny from his family as well as hers, will they falter at the first hurdle or prove that they have learnt history's lessons and this time won't be so easily persuaded to part?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

 **Lady Russell's Invitation**

The rooms Lady Russell had taken in Bath were slightly smaller than those occupied by Anne Elliot's family. The furnishings, though modest by comparison, still spoke of her friend's prosperity and good taste. Despite having grown up surrounded by such wealth and, in her father's case, fashionable excess, Anne suddenly felt out of place.

Frederick Wentworth stood beside her, a pillar in the storm, though the storm was entirely of her own making. _Marriage? To Captain Wentworth? Anne and Captain Wentworth?_ After obtaining Mr. Elliot's surprised consent, they had made the announcement to her family first, as was customary, and little by little the news had filtered out. She shouldn't have been surprised to see her godmother's invitation to call, yet her hand had shaken slightly when she received her card that morning.

"Lady Russell, I'm quite sure you didn't invite us here to stand in silence," Frederick commented.

"Of course not," her friend said, smoothly. "Won't you sit?"

Frederick glanced around at an elegant chaise, two empty upright seats and a third, which held an open book, left when its owner had risen to greet her guests.

"No, thank you," he said. "I believe you did not intend to keep us long."

"That's quite correct." Lady Russell smiled at Anne. "My dear, I wanted to be among the first to congratulate you, and to ask if you still intend to join us this evening for the ball."

"The ball?" Anne asked, raking back through her memory to find any recollection of such an event being mentioned previously.

"Well, perhaps ball is the wrong term," Lady Russell said. "A dance, a dinner, a _small gathering._ " She flicked her eyes from Anne to Frederick. "Of friends."

"And why, pray, would you want to go to such trouble for us?" Frederick Wentworth made little attempt to hide the dislike he felt towards Anne's oldest and most cherished friend, nor the suspicion with which he viewed her sudden desire for hospitality.

"It's hardly a trouble." Lady Russell waved away his concerns with a twirl of her elegant wrist. "Why, I had arranged this long before you made your announcement. Anne's father answered on her behalf that they would all be attending, as would the Musgroves, of course, as a compliment to Mary." Her eyes lit on Frederick. "And your sister, as well. I have spent some time with Admiral and Lady Croft while they have been in Bath and found them to be most…interesting people. Now, with your engagement, it seems like the perfect occasion for a celebration."

Anne glanced at her fiancé, and then back at her friend. Lady Russell certainly _seemed_ genuine. Surely enough had passed between them by now that they need not stay mired in the past? Indeed, Lady Russell undoubtedly felt that she had much ground to make up with Frederick, if not with Anne herself, for her attempts to separate the pair eight years previously, and latterly, in her intention to see Anne engaged to another young man entirely. _Mr. Elliot._ Anne swallowed, remembering how close she had come to following Lady Russell's advice yet again, and making a decision that could never be reversed.

Frederick did not falter, and Anne felt some unspoken battle of the wills raging between him and her godmother. She could practically see the wheels turning in Lady Russell's mind as she contrived to think of a way to persuade him into agreeing to the event. Frederick's grey eyes were set like flint, and he would not give ground easily.

Anne slid her hand into Frederick's palm and squeezed, forcing him to look down at their interlocked fingers. A reflexive smile edged onto his chiselled face, and he nodded, almost imperceptibly, accepting her silent plea.

"Forgive me, Lady Russell," he said, although it took him a full minute to meet her gaze once more. "I have so recently won back my bride I'm sure you can understand my hesitancy in letting her go once more."

"You would hardly be _letting her go_ , Captain Wentworth." Lady Russell clucked her tongue. "I do anticipate _your_ attending my little soiree as well. Surely both bride _and groom_ to be will grace my home, as I will be hosting this gathering in your honour."

"Indeed?" Frederick somehow managed to lace his one word reply with all the disbelief it was possible for a person to muster, and Anne deployed the only weapon she had in her arsenal and squeezed the large hand again. Her pinch would have barely registered on his weather-beaten paw, but it had its desired effect, and gently he reached over with his other hand, sliding her grasp up to the crook of his elbow, where it nestled quite contentedly.

"In that case I'm sure we will both be _delighted_ to attend. Now if you don't mind, Anne and I had intended to take in the circus while the weather holds." And with a decorous, if not entirely friendly nod, he swept them both away from Lady Russell and her elegant lodgings and out into the bustling Bath street.

"You shouldn't be so gruff around her," Anne said, lightly, as they walked.

"She shouldn't force my hand," he replied, his voice just as gruff as it had been a moment before. When Anne glanced up at his face, however, his features had relaxed into an amused half-smile, and she got the impression he was teasing her.

"I know you don't like Lady Russell…" Anne began. She heard a growl, low in Frederick's throat, and ignored it. "But she is very important to me. You know that my mother died when I was young, and Lady Russell helped to raise me. She has always been a close confidant and adviser -"

"An unworthy confidant," Frederick interjected. "And a poor adviser. My dear Anne, surely you realise if it were not for _Lady Russell_ _'s_ interference -" he laid a heavy emphasis on her name, barely concealing his dislike. "You and I would have been married eight years ago, when first we decided upon it. So much hurt could have been avoided. What else will she steer you wrongly on?"

"Not a thing," Anne replied, swallowing a sting of defensiveness that sprang up at his assessment of her. "Now that I have you to correct my course."

She wished the comment did not sound quite so bitter, for truly she meant it. She was grateful to have Frederick - her own Frederick - back once more, and hers forever. Yet the fact that he placed so much blame for their parting and separation at her door still weighed heavily upon her. True, she had been too easily persuaded not to consider him a suitor, too easily convinced that their union would be one of error. But he had only too quickly abandoned her too, and without any Lady Russell to lay the blame upon. He had disappeared to sea and washed his hands of the whole affair without a moment's hesitation. Was he not at least equal in the share of blame for their delayed reunion?

They walked a few paces further in silence, while Anne turned the matter over in her mind. She ought to say something, surely, to try to explain to him how his throwaway comment had stung her. But what? Where could she find the words to make him understand when she could barely understand herself?

"I fear I have upset you, Anne." He said, in a low voice, which jerked her out of her thoughts and back to the present. "Pray, forgive me if I have blustered along and made everything uncomfortable somehow." His dark eyebrows knit with concern.

"No," she said, after a long pause. "No, it's alright. I was just thinking."

"What about?"

They walked on in silence a moment, and Frederick smiled. "Ah, I have it. You were trying to decide which dress would be most suitable for the evening's entertainments. Quite right too, the woman of the hour should be properly attired. After all, she has the rest of the Elliot sisters to outshine…" His eyes twinkled, as she knew, without asking, his opinion of her sisters.

"You know it won't only be my family that are there tonight," she protested, returning his grin with a smile of her own.

"No, indeed, and for that I must be grateful. God bless my sister for so effectively winning over all of Bath. Though I'm sure she and the Admiral have only secured an invitation as a courtesy to me. That friend of yours is determined to win me over somehow."

"And why shouldn't she be?" Anne asked. "She has a lot to make up for. Oughtn't we to let her?"

"Quite right," Frederick said. "As ever, you are far wiser than I give you credit for. Come, let's take one more turn before we head back."


	2. Chapter 2

Frederick attempted to tie his new cravat once more, before cursing the wretched scrap of fabric and hurling it aside. Ordinarily, he would wear his Naval uniform to such a gathering, and indeed he rarely felt comfortable out of it now. After so many years of wear it fit like a glove. It served a dual purpose, too, a shield he would need to face Lady Russell and the Elliots _en masse_. At least nobody could cast aspersions on his character when his uniform declared his worth for all to see.

He glanced back towards his closet. The uniform lay ready and waiting to be worn, despite the suggestion that Naval Officers ought to wear civilian clothing when they were not on active service. He knew too many, like him, who wore their uniform as a badge of honour, especially to an event such as this evening's promised to be. It was a Naval man's equivalent of the latest London fashion, but this spoke to quality of character as well as social standing. So why yet persist with civilian clothing? And this cravat! _No,_ he told his reflection, eyeing the unfamiliar figure for half a moment longer before beginning to undress. They might drag him to this evening's gathering, but they would not drag him there without his own suit of armour.

"Frederick!" His sister rapped on the door to his room. "Frederick, are you ready? The Admiral wishes to leave."

"In a moment, Sophie," he called, redoubling his efforts and his speed. His uniform went on at twice the speed his unfamiliar habiliments came off, and he felt more himself again in an instant. He glanced at his reflection in the glass one final time, to assuage his doubts. _Yes. This will do._ He nodded. Let Lady Russell and the Elliots admire his rank from the epaulets on his shoulders and then dare to tell him he didn't deserve Anne Elliot's hand. His forehead creased in a frown. Never had he forgotten the wound that insult had given him. He had nursed it bitterly for years. _And now I must call these people friends, and one day soon, family._ He smiled grimly. It was a hard task, but his reward - Anne herself - was worth any trial.

"Alright, Sophie, I'm ready," he said, pulling the door open and greeting his sister with an affectionate peck on the cheek. "You look lovely, my dear."

"And so do you." She reached up to brush an invisible speck of lint from one shoulder. "Quite handsome. Why, I can almost forget the memory of you and Edward tormenting me with worms in the garden on a summer's evening not unlike this one…" She sighed, lost in memory. "But only _almost._ _"_ She took his arm and allowed him to escort her towards their waiting driver.

"Do you know who else is attending tonight?" Sophie asked, as they joined her husband inside the carriage.

"The usual suspects," the Admiral replied, with a sniff. "Sir Walter Elliot and that supercilious eldest daughter of his."

Frederick smiled at his brother-in-law's unflinching analysis of Anne's older sister. Elizabeth had never hidden her disapproval of him, on the rare occasion that she had acknowledged him at all. He wondered how her attitude towards him might change, now that they were destined to be brother and sister, rather than passing acquaintances.

"The Musgroves, too," he volunteered. "On account of Mary."

"Yes, well, Mary Musgrove I can take or leave," the Admiral admitted, with a conspiratorial wink. "But the rest of the Musgrove family are jolly enough folk, and ought to lift the spirits somewhat."

"And Anne will be there," Sophie prompted, smiling warmly at her brother.

"Yes." Frederick sank back in his seat and watched the darkening streets of Bath whip past their carriage.

"I know you aren't fond of Lady Russell, or certain members -" Here Sophie's voice hitched, before she continued. "Certain members of Anne's family." She hesitated, long enough to draw Frederick's attention from the road to her eyes, which were cloudy with memory.

"It's a valiant effort they're making, now, to put the past behind them," Admiral Croft suggested. "S'pose we could at least allow them the chance, eh, Sophie?" He patted his wife's knee sympathetically, and met Frederick's gaze with a knowing glance.

Frederick frowned. Had _his_ previous dealings with the Elliot family really scarred his sister so badly? _But she was away from England, she never even knew!_ Even at their late re-acquaintance, when she and Admiral Croft had decided to rent Kellynch hall from the Elliots, Frederick had only admitted a few details of his early association with them.

"Lady Russell says she has enjoyed getting to know you while you have been at Bath," he volunteered, changing the subject only fractionally, and angling for insight into his sister's surprising reaction to their evening's companions.

"Indeed." The Admiral shuffled in his seat, attempting to stretch out the leg that continued to plague him with gout. "She is an interesting woman." He knit his bushy grey eyebrows together and continued, half to himself. "Interesting ideas…"

"She has certainly never been fond of me," Frederick remarked, with a self-deprecating smile. "I can't think why she is so keen to play host to me this evening."

"Why, you have won the heart of her precious god-daughter," Sophie said, rising up at any perceived slight against her brother, looking every inch the mother bear defending her cubs. "And that aside, you have established yourself a successful Captain in the Navy. You deserve far more than to be merely tolerated by society, however elegant they think themselves."

"Yes. I suppose you're right." Frederick felt that old familiar insecurity settle over him, the way it had eight years previously, when he had first worked up the courage to seek Anne's hand.

"Now, Sophie, don't go to war on Frederick's behalf. I'm sure he is quite capable of defending himself against the "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune" without holding onto his sister's apron-strings." The Admiral roared with laughter at the image. As if Frederick, tall and broad shouldered, could easily stoop close enough to his petite sister to reach such strings, if they existed.

"I hardly think it is unbecoming to remind Frederick that he is worth a dozen _Lady Russell_ _s_ and to acknowledge that Anne values him far higher." Sophie bristled.

"That she does." Admiral Croft nodded. "And so do we."

"Thank you, sir," Frederick said, chuckling at his sister and brother-in-law's determination to buoy up his spirits, at the nearing of the evening's trials.

 _You are only here because Anne wishes it,_ he reminded himself. He would do anything for her, even - and the thought made his eyes crinkle once more with amusement - face the "slings and arrows" of a thousand Elliots and Russells and Musgroves.

"Ah, here we are," Admiral Croft announced, as the carriage slowed. "Let's see what the evening has in store for us, eh?"

Frederick nodded, looking out of the window at the tall building which seemed all the more imposing in the dark than it had in the light. Had it really only been a few hours since he and Anne had called on Lady Russell? He felt the absence of his fiancée, his talisman, and waited impatiently for his sister and brother-in-law to alight from the carriage, so that he could accompany them inside. He knew his heart would not settle until he had set his eyes on Anne once more, and could take her steadying hand in his, the way he saw the familiar couple in front of him do. They walked as a unit, him unsteady, and wincing at occasional jolts of pain. She, slowing her pace to match his, sharing a word or two as they reached the threshold of the house.

Frederick swallowed his thoughts. He was a grown man, and had faced far worse trials than an evening of society dining among friends. _Friends?_ He drew in a breath, and fell into step behind his sister. He would survive this too.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thank you so much for all the reads/reviews - I hope you are enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it!_

 **An Evening Celebration**

Anne had anticipated being one of the last to arrive at Lady Russell's house that evening, her father being a lifelong adherent to the convention of arriving fashionably late. However, the day had been a quiet one for Sir Walter and his excitement at meeting with old friends and - Anne presumed this was likely his true reasoning - the chance to bask in the glory of being the father of her newly-affianced self, had guaranteed his eagerness to arrive early. Even Elizabeth did not seem disappointed at the opportunity to exhibit a newly purchased gown, whatever the occasion.

The Musgroves had arrived next, with the noticeable absences of Henrietta, who had an appointment with the Hayters, and Louisa, who was tired after a busy few days of wedding preparations and had chosen to retire early, sending profuse apologies for her absence and pleading with Anne to call on her the very next day so that she could congratulate her in person.

Charles and Mary arrived soon after, and Charles joined his parents in making conversation with Sir Walter, who was holding forth his opinions on the latest fashions to be worn at weddings, advising Mr. Musgrove rather more than that man wished. Lady Russell was attempting, unsuccessfully, to shift the conversation to an altogether more agreeable topic. After greeting her father and sister politely, Mary made a direct course towards Anne, and began to relate her frustration at the sheer volume of talk about weddings that seemed to surround her wherever she went of late. Anne said nothing, and eventually Mary lapsed into a few moments' quiet.

"It's rather warm this evening, do not you think, Anne?"

Mary sighed, and unfolded her fan for the third time in ten minutes, waving it about languorously, and sighing yet again that it seemed to make little difference to her suffering.

"Well, we are rather near the fire…" Anne began.

"I do believe it is far too warm this evening to even _have_ a fire, especially in such a small room as this." Mary closed her fan with a flourish.

"Hardly a small room, Mary!" Anne glanced around her. "It's quite as big as the lodgings we have on Straight Street. It's only that there are rather more people in it than you are used to."

"Don't tell me what I am used to," Mary said, crossly. "I merely pointed out that it is far too warm an evening to necessitate a fire in a room of this size." She unfolded her fan again, and began waving it with rather more energy. "Far, far too warm." She sighed. "Oh, who's this arriving?" She leaned in front of Anne, peering past her to the doorway, as it opened to admit Admiral and Mrs Croft. Anne could see nothing but the side of Mary's head, but she recognised the warm laugh of the Admiral, and knew that his arrival meant Frederick must be with them.

"Excuse me, Mary -" She began, attempting to excuse herself from her sister's monopoly.

"Why, I do believe it is Admiral and Mrs. Croft!" Mary declared. "Coo-eee!" She called, waving her free hand in their direction.

"Mary, you don't need to shout, I'm sure they can see us perfectly well," Anne murmured.

"And here's Captain Wentworth with them!"

At this, Anne chose to move a few feet away from her sister in order to escape her stranglehold. Her eyes met Frederick's, and saw his expression lift as he located her. Leaning down to whisper something in his sister's ear, he circumnavigated the small crowd of Elliots and Musgroves to reach Anne's side in a moment.

"Good evening, Mrs. Musgrove," He said, nodding to Mary. "Good evening, Anne." His voice softened to the tone he reserved only for her. "You look very pretty this evening."

Anne blushed, which may have been due to this affectionate comment, but she was rather more sure that her sister had been right, it was far too warm to have a fire lit in a room of this size. Mary tore her gaze away from the door to glance at Anne.

"It is quite a pretty dress, I do admire the cut, but I did try to tell her that green is such a harsh colour on a complexion as ghostly pale as Anne's." Mary sniffed.

"I think it suits her tremendously." Frederick's eyes flashed with irritation at Mary's thoughtless criticism, but he refused to be drawn on an issue so nonsensical as dress. Pausing a moment, he seemed to recollect his surroundings, and let out a sound that might have passed for a laugh.

"Of course, I am just a man, and have limited expertise in the intricacies of women's fashion. Anne, come and say hello to my sister, I know she is eager to speak with you before the evening's festivities commence." Anne could tell from the way he choked out the word "festivities" that despite Frederick's compliance in attending Lady Russell's soiree, his low opinion of the evening that stretched ahead of them remained unchanged. He was here to please her, and it ought to have pleased her, but she couldn't help but feel the weight of anxiety press in upon her that still she would be forced to split her attentions between the family and friends she was loyal to, and the friends and soon-to-be-family she would far more happily have spent her time with.

"Oh, well I should like to greet Mrs. Croft as well," Mary said. "And as I was just saying to Anne, it is far too warm in this corner near the fireplace. I see the Admiral is standing by an open window, let us join them."

She strode purposefully towards the poor unsuspecting Admiral, allowing Frederick and Anne a moment to exchange amused glances behind her rapidly-retreating back.

"I see things remain unchanged in the Musgrove household?" He murmured.

"Mary is a little tired of so many discussions revolving around weddings," Anne said. "She cannot wait for Louisa's and Henrietta's to be over, so that everything can get back to normal."

"Of course." Frederick cleared his throat as they reached his sister's orbit. "Sophie! Here we are."

"Anne, dear, you look beautiful." Mrs. Croft pulled her close for an embrace, and Anne felt all the warmth of a connection with Frederick's sister that was lacking with either of her own. She glanced, guiltily, at Mary, but noticed her sister was staring curiously out of the window and decided to take advantage of the time to speak to Admiral and Mrs. Croft unmolested.

"And I believe congratulations are in order." The Admiral was saying, with a warm smile. He shook Frederick's hand heartily, and then turned to clasp Anne's in his rough fingers. "I told Fred he couldn't make a better choice, though I s'pose he knows it." He nodded, smiling. "Sophie and I really couldn't be happier."

"Nor I." Frederick said.

"Nor I!" Anne laughed, and the four beamed at each other.

"Have you decided on a date yet?" Admiral Croft asked. "I know you'll not be wanting a long engagement, after what happened last time -" His wife elbowed him, not entirely successfully silencing his comment.

"Of course, things are very different now," He continued, his eyes twinkling at the young couple. "And it is the season for weddings, is it not, Musgrove?" He waved over Anne's head to where Charles was trying, patiently, to turn his father and Sir Elliot onto a topic of greater interest to himself.

"Here's Mr. Elliott coming down the street!" Mary remarked. She turned to Anne. "I am certain that's his carriage. Did you know he was to attend this evening?"

Anne was so shocked she didn't know quite what to say, and when she did find her voice it faltered.

"I'm sure you're mistaken, Mary -"

"You always believe me mistaken when it comes to recognising people, Anne, but I tell you I have a clear view out to the street and I am convinced that is Mr. Elliot. Did Lady Russell tell you he was joining us this evening?"

"I -" Anne glanced up at Frederick, whose looked away from her before she could meet his gaze. If Lady Russell made him uncomfortable, then Mr. William Elliot would make the evening nigh on unbearable. "No, she never mentioned him joining us," She finished, lamely. "In fact, I am surprised he is still in Bath, now that -"

"Why would he leave?" Mary asked. "Honestly, Anne, you do realise that there are a great many people of wealth and importance here in Bath, and it is _the_ place to be at the moment? I'm quite sure Mr. Elliot is keen to continue strengthening his connections with our family. In fact, I think I shall go and introduce myself. I haven't seen him since that day we met at Lyme, do you remember?" And, without waiting for a response, Mary excused herself and made her way towards her husband, and thence to the entrance door as it swung open to admit the familiar figure of Mr. William Elliot.

Anne swallowed, and stepped a little closer to the window. If Lady Russell _had_ invited Mr. Elliot - and surely she must have, or else why would he be here? - it was a cruel trick not to mention it to Anne, nor to prepare her in some way. She hadn't seen him since she had learned the truth of his unwarranted interest in her, and she was sure news of her and Frederick's attachment would come as a shock to him.

She glanced up at Frederick, and noticed he and Sophie sharing a silent communication that she longed to be included in, but when Frederick noticed her attention, he smiled, rather thinly, at her. "I suppose you, too, would like to greet your cousin?" He said, offering her his arm. "Come, we ought to speak to your father and sister as well." He voice lightened in tone and humour. "I confess when I saw you the thought of talking to anybody else quite slipped my mind."

Anne relaxed a little, as she saw that Frederick was clearly not worried by Mr. Elliot's reappearance. _And no more he should be._ She reminded herself. _Mr. Elliot is nothing but an acquaintance to me._ But as they drew close, her eyes sought out Lady Russell's and she couldn't help but wonder if her friend had a grander scheme at play this evening.


	4. Chapter 4

"Mr. Elliot!" Mary's greeting was so shrill that Frederick was sure it would have pierced his hearing even if he had been stood on the other side of the room, instead of right next to her. "Why, it is wonderful to see you again, and to spend a little more time together. You do remember our meeting at Lyme?"

"Of course, Mrs. Musgrove." Mr. William Elliot managed to look delighted at Mary's welcome. Frederick watched him carefully, but there did not seem to be a trace of irritation evident on his elegant face _._ "It is lovely to see you again and I do hope we may spend some time in conversation this evening, but if you'll excuse me I really must greet the woman of the hour." He bypassed Mary almost entirely, and reached out to shake Anne's hand. "Miss. Anne, I must congratulate you on your engagement." His eyes twinkled. "Although I am sure you are tired of hearing that this evening."

"Not at all." Anne stammered. Frederick wondered whether it was nervousness at being the centre of attention, or indeed if it was the attention of Mr. Elliot specifically that tripped her up.

He cleared his throat, and Mr. Elliot let go of Anne's hand, turning to Frederick.

"And of course, I must congratulate the man who has won your heart. Captain Wentworth, truly you have the prize we are all envious of."

Frederick took the hand he offered, but noticed the warm smile cooled just a fraction as its owner turned from Anne to him.

"Thank you, Mr. Elliot. It is good to finally make your acquaintance properly." Frederick tried to swallow his animosity towards the man. He still couldn't forget the way he had seen Elliot swarm around Anne when he first arrived in Bath - indeed it was Elliot's presence which had prevented Frederick from speaking to Anne as he had wished at the evening concert they had both attended just a few days previously.

"I met your brother, I believe," Mr. Elliot continued. "He is a curate, is he not?"

"Ah, then you shall have the grace of knowing my whole family by this evening's conclusion," Frederick said, stiffly. "For my sister attends with her husband, the Admiral Croft."

He felt someone's gaze upon them and looked up, meeting the interested eyes of Lady Russell, who bustled over to the group.

"Wonderful!" She said, clapping her hands. "Mr. Elliot, I'm so glad you could join us. And you and Captain Wentworth have had the opportunity to meet at last! Unfortunately I must delay your getting better acquainted by insisting we all move through to the dining room. I am sure you will find plenty to talk about later this evening, not least your shared affection for my god-daughter. Anne, dear, walk with me. I have barely spoken to you yet this evening!"

Anne moved obediently away from Frederick's side to join Lady Russell, who took her arm possessively, and led the charge towards the elegant dining room. Frederick felt a breath of air hit him at losing his companion, and turned to see which of the remaining ladies needed escorting into dinner. He was determined to abide by society's convention, however unnecessary it seemed to him, knowing all the same how important these rituals were to his prospective father-in-law. Sir Walter, however, was paying little notice to what was happening around him, and was instead deep in conversation with Mrs. Musgrove over the state of the rooms they had taken in Bath, and whether the neighbourhood they resided in was quite fashionable enough to admit to in wider society. Frederick felt the party flow around him towards the doorway, and stood aside, letting people pass. Mary grabbed hold of Mr. William Elliot's arm and began to talk again, her voice mercifully lower this time, so Frederick was only forced to overhear every third word. He noticed Elizabeth manoeuvring past him, though she halted quite suddenly when she realised Mr. Elliot had taken Mary's arm and walked with her towards the dining room. With an internal sigh, he turned to Anne's eldest sister.

"Miss. Elliot, won't you allow me to escort you?" He offered her his arm, and she took it, with barely a glance of acquiescence. He would never get used to being so readily dismissed by a woman of only marginally higher status - though significantly less character - than his own Anne. How the two could be related continued to elude him, for Anne was everything Elizabeth was not.

They walked awkwardly in silence for a moment, while Frederick struggled to think of something to say. "You, too, look very nice this evening, Miss. Elliot," he began, in desperation. "The colour of your gown compliments your- ah - complexion." He coughed, silently thanking Mary Musgrove for the unexpected assistance.

Elizabeth nodded, and glanced at him momentarily.

"I see you are wearing your uniform. How nice." She said in a voice that indicated no feeling whatsoever. "Now that we are in Bath it seems there are Naval men everywhere parading around. I suppose it adds a certain colour to gatherings such as this."

"Indeed." Frederick swallowed what he would rather have said in response to her slight - intended or otherwise - of not only him, but his comrades.

They walked a few steps further and into the elegant dining room, which was lit warmly by flickering candlelight. Lady Russell began assigning the seating, and Frederick saw Elizabeth to a seat next to her father. He was relieved to see Anne hesitating some distance away and hoped at least one of the empty seats near them would be occupied by someone he would have some degree of interest in speaking to. Charles Musgrove, perhaps. He was a good sort, for the most part, and they could have a capital time discussing shooting, or any other sort of out-of-doors activity. And Charles always wanted to know more about the ships Captain Wentworth had served on. It was a great pleasure to Frederick to talk about the Navy with people who admired it. Yes, Charles would be a wonderful dinner companion. He pulled out the seat nearest Anne, so that she could sit, but as he turned to the place next to her, Lady Russell laid a light hand on his arm.

"Oh, Captain Wentworth, I hope you don't mind, I thought we might break with tradition." She smiled, conspiratorially, at him, and he felt his heart sink.

"Not at all, Lady Russell." He said it through gritted teeth, but matched his reluctance with such deference that he hoped his irritation had gone unnoticed. Lady Russell certainly hadn't been fazed by it, in any case.

"Well, it seems to me that as you and Anne have the rest of your lives to sit together at meetings such as this, I thought it might be fun to seat you separately, and enable us to talk to you as individuals, instead of an old married couple." She smiled dazzlingly at him. "What do you say?"

He debated refusing, but realised that even if he did it would likely be overruled by Anne's determined godmother, so instead he nodded, ducking his gaze so he had a moment to regain his composure.

"As you wish, Lady Russell." He said, shifting a few seats away. "If I sit here does that suit your plan?" He couldn't avoid a slight dig at her machinations, but she chose not to react.

"Yes, I'll sit next to you, and perhaps –" she broke off, waiting to catch someone else's attention. "Mr. Elliot! William, why don't you sit here on Anne's other side, between her and Elizabeth. I am sure you still have many things to discuss."

Frederick watched, powerless, as Mr. Elliot smilingly accepted the seat that ought to have been his.

"There, that's perfect," Lady Russell said, smiling around the table as the rest of her guests were seated. Charles Musgrove took the place on Frederick's other side, though any relief he might have anticipated by such company had vanished in the wake of seeing Anne already engaged in whispered conversation with William Elliot.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N - thanks again for all the reads/reviews/comments - I hope you are still enjoying. A few more twists and turns to go yet before Anne and Frederick reach their HEA ;)_

 **A Game of Whist**

"Miss. Anne, I do not believe you have listened to a word I have said this past ten minutes!"

Mr. Elliot's tone was light, his criticism a gentle one, but still Anne hurried to apologise for her apparent lack of manners. In truth, she had been aching to hear what Lady Russell was saying that had Frederick's countenance so stormy. She had felt his eyes on her during the entire time she and Mr. Elliot had exchanged pleasantries, and when she had tried to shoot him a look of encouragement, a smile, a reminder that _he_ was the one man she would much rather be seated next to, she saw he was deep in conversation with Lady Russell. Or rather, her godmother was deep in conversation with him. Frederick was listening intently and saying little. His eyes were black as tombs, and Anne strained to hear what had dismayed him so, to have some idea how to remedy it.

"Anne!" Mr. Elliot nudged her again, and she turned back to him.

"I am sorry, Mr. Elliot," she said. "You were trying to talk to me, and I was distracted. Please, continue." Her words were the very thing a well-bred lady ought to say in her situation, but they lacked any of the vitality their conversations might have had on previous evenings. Indeed, this was the first time she had spoken to Mr. William Elliot since the dreadful report her dear friend Mrs. Smith had provided of his behaviour concerning her family and, specifically, her. She wondered whether she ought to raise the question with him now, but thought better of it. What could she say that would not sound like gossip spread among servants?

"Your Captain certainly doesn't seem entirely thrilled to be kept away from you this evening." Mr. Elliot's lips curled in amusement. "I'm not sure I've ever seen that fellow smile."

"Have you seen him?" Anne asked. She could remember only one or two occasions when Frederick and Mr. Elliot had been in the same room, and couldn't imagine that they had ever had anything to say to one another.

"On occasion," Mr. Elliot said. "You recall, he was there at Lyme - with your party, I mean. You and your sister, and two other young ladies…I forget their names."

"The Musgroves," Anne supplied. "Henrietta and Louisa. They are Charles' sisters: Mary's sisters-in-law."

"Ah yes. Now they certainly seemed to understand the need for levity at a party. What a pity they are not here tonight."

"They are also both about to be married." Anne watched his face, but saw no emotion whatsoever flicker across it.

"They too? Why, there must be something in the water, Miss. Anne. Quite everybody in your circle is married or about to be, yourself included it seems."

"And you?" Anne could no longer keep her counsel on quite all that she knew about Mr. Elliot. She was eager to know the truth of Mrs. Smith's comments, though she would not doubt her friend's good intentions in sharing what she thought of Mr. Elliot's attentions. "Surely you must think sometimes of marrying again."

 _There._ Her use of "again" had at last provoked a response, albeit an unintentional one. She saw a shadow flicker across Mr. Elliot's face, but a moment later he was in control once more.

"Ah, I see you have heard my history," he said, quietly. "Well, I am not ashamed of it. My poor Catherine has been dead quite these five years. Many assumed - wrongly, I may add - that I married her only for her fortune, and by her untimely death I have gained freedom and inherited her wealth. Anne, I must refute that most sincerely. I loved my wife." He paused. "But, grieved though I was by her passing, and miss her though I might, I must acknowledge that life is lonely without a companion, as I'm sure you can attest."

He lowered his gaze, and had Anne not received warning from Mrs. Smith of the true facts of Mr. Elliot's first marriage, she would undoubtedly have believed his feelings to be true and deep. Was it possible that her friend had been mistaken? And yet that did not absolve him of all crimes, for his attentions to her had been unwarranted and injurious, if both Elizabeth and Frederick's reactions were anything to judge by.

"Why, you are yet young. I'm sure you could find a woman quite worthy of marriage - here in Bath, even."

"Alas, I thought I had." Here Mr. Elliot lifted his gaze and met Anne's eyes for one moment, before he cleared his throat. "But evidently that was not meant to be. No matter! For I have at least gained a cousin and - I hope - a friend. For we are friends, Anne, are we not?"

"Of course," Anne replied, but she waited a moment too long to speak, and felt sure that her voice echoed with falseness. She still wasn't quite sure whether she _would_ trust the friendship of such a man as Mr. William Elliot, but she felt an unspoken understanding that he would be far more beneficial as a friend than an enemy.

Suddenly realising that their conversation had dropped to barely a whisper, and that their faces doubtless conveyed their seriousness, she lifted her eyes, just in time to see Lady Russell smile at her, and lean over to Frederick once more. He was busily slicing his meat with rather more severity than it warranted, but all activity stopped as he listened to Lady Russell's comment. Anne watched his eyebrows draw into a frown, and he offered nothing more than a curt nod in response to Lady Russell's comment.

 _What are you saying?_ She tried to telegraph to her godmother, to Frederick, but neither of them looked at her, and she was left to wonder in silence. Mr. Elliot, mercifully, had been distracted by Elizabeth, who was attempting to draw him on his most recent associations amongst Bath society. Anne could quite cheerfully ignore their conversation, and she tried to enjoy her meal, but anxiety first overt Frederick and then her conversation with Mr. Elliott had somewhat diminished her appetite. She settled for moving her food around on her plate, and giving the appearance of enjoyment.

"Why, Anne, dear, you aren't eating?" Lady Russell's voice cut through her reverie. "Are you unwell?"

"No," Anne said, obediently taking a bite. She swallowed, and then leaned closer to Lady Russell. "What were you talking about to Frederick just now?" She asked. Her fiancé had turned to Charles Musgrove, and the latter was regaling him with a story that resulted in a hoot of laughter that to anybody else would sound completely natural. It was only by virtue of attention that Anne noticed the smile didn't reach Frederick's eyes, and the strangely hollow tone to his voice.

"Oh, nothing of consequence," Lady Russell said, with a smile. "I was just commenting about how lovely it is that you and Mr. Elliot seem to have found a kinship with one another."

Anne's face fell.

"Oh, my dear, I merely meant that it was a change for the better, after Mr. Elliot and Sir Walter spent so many years estranged…why, what's the matter?"

"You know there was more to it than that," Anne said, with a swift glance over her shoulder to ensure she wouldn't be overheard. "Not on my part, but on his, and others seemed to expect it for reasons I still don't quite grasp. It was unkind of you to mention it to Frederick on such an occasion -" She stammered. She struggled to stay angry at a woman whose opinion she valued so highly, and who had so generously hosted them that evening, yet she did not wish to sweep the matter under the carpet when she feared what damage Lady Russell's innocent - or not so innocent! - comment may have caused.

"I don't understand why you are upset, Anne," Lady Russell said. "It is quite apparent that Captain Wentworth loves you, and you love him. I was merely making an observation. I doubt he was even listening."


	6. Chapter 6

_Isn_ _'t it wonderful how Anne and Mr. Elliot enjoy one another's company!_ Lady Russell's voice wormed its way into Frederick's mind, though her topic of conversation had long since changed. _They must be discussing something incredibly important, see how quietly they converse._

He hadn't needed Lady Russell to point that out, indeed he could tell that her innocent observation was anything but innocent. She was determined to point out to him how much more suitably matched Anne was to her cousin than to him. On the surface, Frederick supposed, it could be true. Both Anne and Mr. Elliot grew up in this sort of society that felt nothing but stifling to him. Frederick had found his true home on the sea, amongst his brothers in the Navy. How could he expect Anne to give up all of this that she knew well, to join the ranks of military wives and families? Separation for months at a time, always living with the possibility of her husband's injury or death, was not an easy life for any woman.

For the first time since he had secured Anne's hand he began to wonder if it was a mistake. Was he being selfish, committing her to the life he had chosen? Yet she knew more of it now, than she had in their youth, and still she wished to marry him. He oughtn't to doubt her ability to endure.

"I think if we are all finished we might as well adjourn," Lady Russell said, her loud comment carrying over the other whispered conversations. "I had intended on dancing -" A groan from Sir Walter provoked polite laughter from around the table. "But I will not insist upon it, as the majority of us that remain are rather too advanced in age to truly enjoy it." An unreadable expression flickered across her features. "Perhaps instead we shall stick to cards." She beamed around at her guests, the queen holding court. "Captain Wentworth, would you be so kind as to escort me?"

"Of course, Lady Russell." Frederick stood obediently, and noticed Anne watching him with concern. He managed a small smile, which seemed to allay her anxieties.

"You will join me for a hand of whist, won't you?" She asked him, as they led the party back into a room now laid for cards and conversation rather than dancing. "I know Anne will be easily pressed into joining, also."

"You'll need a fourth, in that case," Frederick began. "Perhaps Admiral Croft -"

"Yes, I imagine he will suffice," Lady Russell said, after a moment's visible hesitation. "Perhaps you could ask him for us."

Frederick wondered a moment the source of her reluctance to invite his brother-in-law to join them, but he did not have long to ponder the question before they reached a table in the centre of the room. Lady Russell released Frederick's arm and he returned to the Admiral, who walked slowly into the room with Sophie.

"Sir, may I steal you?" His lips quirked. "It appears our company is required for a game of whist."

"Of course," Admiral Croft said, patting Sophie on the arm. "If you don't mind, m'dear?"

"Not at all," Sophie said, with a cautious glance at her brother. "You can keep each other in line." She smiled. "And I really must speak to Mrs. Musgrove about Louisa's wedding preparations. I advised her of a good milliner and wish to know if she paid him a visit or not."

She squeezed Frederick's hand warmly, and he recognised the support that lay behind the small gesture.

Soon the game was in full swing, and Frederick sat opposite Lady Russell, with Anne on one side and Admiral Croft on the other. Their quiet progress was punctuated with occasional flurries of conversation from Sir Walter or from Mrs. Musgrove, as Lady Russell's other guests settled to their own games and entertainments.

"Anne, I was so pleased to see you and Mr. Elliot getting on so well at dinner," Lady Russell observed, keen to revisit her earlier topic of conversation once more.

Frederick concentrated on his hand of cards, but noticed that Anne merely nodded in response.

"As I was saying to Captain Wentworth, I do think it wonderful that you have been able to put so many years of animosity behind you to become friends. It is most encouraging."

"Well, you understand that the animosity was between Mr. Elliot and my father, rather than myself," Anne said. "Of course, I deferred to my father in our interactions, but now that all seems well between them…" She trailed off, visibly hesitating. "But still I would not necessarily say that we are close friends."

"Nonsense!" Lady Russell protested. "Why, you have so much in common."

Frederick's eyes widened in disbelief. What did Anne have in common with Walter Elliot? He did not know the man well, but what little he had learned of him did not endear him at all.

"We are friends," Anne said firmly. "We are cousins, after all. But that is all, Lady Russell. Hardly more than that."

"Still, I am glad that you have managed to convince your father to overcome his own bad feeling towards Mr. Elliot."

"I have rarely been able to convince my father of anything, Lady Russell," Anne said, with a sigh. "I'm sure you know that as well as anyone. If he has forgiven Mr. Elliot for any perceived slight, that is more to do with Mr. Elliot's behaviour than my own." She laid down her cards. "Excuse me, I am feeling rather tired. I think perhaps I had better find a substitute to take my hand for the rest of the game." She pushed her chair back and stood, and Frederick stood too.

"Are you alright, Anne?" he asked, in a low voice.

"Yes," she said, with an unreadable glance at Lady Russell. "I think perhaps I just need some air." She nodded towards one wall. "I see your sister is standing by the window, perhaps I will join her."

"Let me walk with you," Frederick said, concerned that what he had assumed was merely an excuse to escape Lady Russell's scrutiny was in fact rather more. Anne was very pale, and she gratefully took his arm when he offered it.

"Are you sure you are quite well?" he asked. "I could arrange for a carriage to take you home."

"No, no," Anne said, dismissing his concern with a smile. "It is early yet. I just need some fresh air."

 _I know exactly what you mean._ Frederick thought, with a bitter smile. The entire evening had been stifling, and hardly just because of the heat.

"Sophie," Frederick greeted his sister with a smile. "Anne is feeling a little tired, and the heat is too great by our table, perhaps you would look after her here, where the air is somewhat cooler."

"Certainly!" Sophie said, stepping back to allow Anne to stand near the open window. "Are you alright to stand? Frederick, perhaps you ought to fetch a chair -"

"No!" Anne said, with determination. She lifted an apologetic glance to Frederick and to Sophie. "I am sorry. I didn't wish to cause a fuss." She nodded almost imperceptibly to the second card table, where Mr. Elliot, Elizabeth, Mary and Charles were watching their exchange with interest.

"Of course," Frederick said. "Well, I will leave you here then." He smiled conspiratorially at Sophie. "In the competent care of my sister."

He turned back towards their table and took his seat once more.

"Well, I don't s'pose we can continue now," the Admiral said, laying his own hand down. "Pity, I was doing rather well."

"Not at all!" Lady Russell said, glancing around the room. "Why, there are plenty of others who could step in to take Anne's place. Mr and Mrs Musgrove? Sir Walter? Surely one of you would be willing to make a fourth while we finish our hand out?"

"I might be persuaded…" Sir Walter said, hauling himself out of the seat he had claimed, and tottering over to join them. "It's a shame to see a good hand go to waste."

They resumed their game and relative peace was restored to the room. Play was fast-paced and absorbing, though Frederick still cast an occasional glance to the window, and was encouraged to see Anne smiling and talking with Sophie. He was glad they were friends, though he wished the same could be said for him and Anne's family.

Sir Walter cleared his throat.

"So, Captain Wentworth, what are your plans now that war is over, assuming it is indeed over." He frowned. "One can never tell with that Frenchman. He is running all over Europe, provoking war with one nation after another. And now he is exiled, and who knows how long that might last! It causes havoc on one's nerves."

"Even more so if you are fighting him," Frederick said, with a tight smile. He wasn't sure _anything_ rattled Sir Walter's nerves, except perhaps being forced to decide between two equally elegant pairs of shoes. "But yes, I think we can say with a measure of confidence that Napoleon is defeated," he laid a card down. "Still Britain always needs her Navy, so I am content to continue serving in it."

"Well said!" Admiral Croft said, to his right.

"It's a rather unreliable living, though, is it not?" Lady Russell asked. "No offense to you, Admiral Croft, but I imagine it was difficult to convince your wife to join you in such a life."

"Not a bit of it!" Admiral Croft roared with laughter. "Why, Sophie's sense of adventure is easily equal to my own - if not exceeding it. You must ask her some time of her experiences living on the Cape. She tells plenty of interesting tales, isn't that right, Frederick?"

"My sister is one of a kind," Frederick agreed, with a smile. "But she has taught me that most women are equal to men in terms of bravery and certainty of mind." He met Lady Russell's eyes without flinching. "Wouldn't you agree, Lady Russell?"

She paused a moment before responding, and Frederick felt a flash of victory at finally being able to tarry her verbal blows. She could not contradict him without slighting her entire gender, including herself.

"Certainty of purpose is one thing, but signing up to a life of suffering and deprivation…"

"Suffering and deprivation!" Frederick chuckled. "I assure you, Lady Russell, my sister has not suffered or wanted for much of anything, and I'm sure she will tell you that any time things did not come easily to her and the Admiral, their difficulties served only to bind them together all the stronger. Indeed, theirs is a union we all can learn from." He set his cards down. "I think I am out of the game, too, alas, and I shan't be prevailed on to play another. Please excuse me."

He stood, as the clock chimed, and the sound prompted him to a decision.

"In fact, I think I will bid you all good evening. I can escort Anne and my sister home, Admiral, if you wish to stay longer."

"No, you're quite right, Frederick," Admiral Croft stood. "I believe I will join you. We had a busy day today, and as you so rightly pointed out earlier, Lady Russell, we none of us are as young as we used to be."

"You're sure you cannot be persuaded to play one more hand?" Sir Walter ventured. "It seems to me you have rather the talent for it…"

"No," Frederick said, nodding apologetically. "I fear you are mistaken. Out of all of us, I seem to lack the talent for playing games."


	7. Chapter 7

**Discussions**

Anne rose early the next morning. She had turned the events of the evening over in her mind until far later than she would have liked, and sleep was not forthcoming. Still, the day dawned brightly and that alone was enough to cheer her, and chase away any lingering low spirits. The evening could hardly have been termed a runaway success, yet it had not quite been a disaster, and nobody had spoken too widely out of turn. Lady Russell was provoking, but to what end, Anne did not know.

 _Perhaps it wasn_ _'t even intentional,_ she thought, as she dressed. She dearly longed to be charitable towards her friend and not immediately think the worst, though Frederick seemed firmly convinced that Lady Russell existed only to torment him.

Their journey home in the Crofts' carriage had been quiet, with much of the conversation carried by the Admiral and his wife, and all commentary restricted to safe topics such as Louisa Musgrove's upcoming nuptials. Indeed, Anne was surprised at how quickly the Musgroves had acquiesced to the marriage between their daughter and Captain Benwick. But even their discourse on that topic had been circumspect. Anne's memory darted back to the conversation she had overheard between Mrs. Croft and Mrs. Musgrove just a few short days ago - was it really so recently? - when the former had shared her assertion that young couples ought not to wait on fortune or success before they marry. Mrs. Musgrove had been vehement. _There is nothing I so abominate for young people as a long engagement_ _…_ Anne had felt its application to her at the time, and yet it had been that conversation in part which had spurred Frederick to write the letter she still cherished above all others. She reached for the Bible that resided by her bedside and carefully lifted the folded sheet from beneath its cover, smoothing it out gently and allowing her eyes to trace the words she had already committed to memory.

 _I can listen no longer in silence_ _…I offer myself again to you with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it eight years and a half ago…I have loved none but you…_ She ran a fingertip over these words as if by doing so she would somehow touch their author. _I have loved none but you._ "No more have I!" she whispered. Let Lady Russell conspire - if indeed she was. Let her family disapprove, or fail to understand the love she and Frederick shared. It no longer mattered to her, would not keep her from pledging to spend the rest of her life by his side.

Folding the letter back up, she slipped it inside her reticule, feeling she would need its support today, a constant reminder about her person of Frederick's love and fidelity.

She finished dressing, and hurried into the dining room, which was deserted. A glance at the clock confirmed that it would be some time yet before her father or Elizabeth surfaced, as neither of them kept early hours in Bath, particularly not after an evening of entertainments. Mrs. Clay, too, was nowhere to be seen, a fact for which Anne was grateful. Elizabeth's companion was surely unhappy at being excluded from Lady Russell's gathering the previous evening, yet Anne knew her friend cared even less for Mrs. Clay than she did for Captain Wentworth, and in the case of the former it cost her little to indulge in her feelings. For Anne, Lady Russell had pledged to get to know Frederick better, assuring Anne that she would likely come to care for him as her friend did. If last night's behaviour was indicative of Lady Russell's _getting to know him better_ , Anne almost wondered if ignorance would have been preferable for him too.

A breakfast eaten alone is hardly an enjoyable occasion, so Anne ate quickly, a cold meal of bread and milk. She was soon replete, and decided to go out on her walk early, as she did not wish to be discouraged from calling on her friends.

Despite the hour, Bath was already bustling, and Anne enjoyed watching the variety of people she passed from all walks of life, and heading in every conceivable direction. She wandered slowly towards the Musgroves' rooms, knowing that they were likely already up and open to the receiving of guests, particular one as close as Anne. Still, she hesitated on the doorstep a moment before knocking. Louisa would wish to know all the details of what had passed between she and Frederick, details nobody else had even thought to ask. She swallowed her disappointment. People had congratulated them, of course, but her family had expressed mostly shock, which had settled into a reluctant acceptance of the situation. Only Admiral and Mrs. Croft had seemed heartily pleased by the development. Pleased, and not altogether surprised. Anne wondered if Frederick had confided in his sister and friend the state of his true feelings. To be welcomed as a dear friend - and sister! - by those she valued so highly was a blessing. And with this recollection, her spirits lifted. Here, among the Musgroves, was to be among Frederick's friends, his chief supporters and those who valued him in Bath. They would react with happiness, she did not doubt, rather than the reticence of her own family. She knocked.

"Anne, how good of you to come, and so early!" Louisa hugged her warmly, as Anne was led through to the dining room, where the family were still eating breakfast.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," Anne began.

"Not a bit of it!" Charles Musgrove's voice was muffled as he ate. "Pull up a chair. Here, have you breakfasted?"

"Yes, thank you," Anne replied, dismissing his offer of sustenance with a smile. "I was just at a point and remembered Louisa's invitation to call, and thought I would do it now before I was otherwise distracted."

"And we're so glad you have!" Henrietta beamed at her over the teapot. "For now we will have you all to ourselves and you can tell us every detail of this most delicious piece of gossip we have heard. Is it really true you and Captain Wentworth are to be married?"

"It is," Anne said, overcome with shyness.

"How wonderful!" Louisa exclaimed. "Do you know, I always supposed he had an affection for you."

"Did you?" Anne could hardly help herself from asking. "But I thought you -" She paused, swallowing the rest of her comment before it was voiced. Anne had been convinced that it was _Louisa_ who had captured Frederick's heart. Indeed, she was far younger and more vivacious than Anne thought she had ever been, and long years of separation had done little to improve her, by Frederick's own admission – though she had never admitted to hearing his unkind first assessment of her. Louisa's accident at Lyme had appeared to solidify Frederick's feelings, as his anxiety seemed to echo his love for her. Anne had accepted her fate, but then to discover Louisa had instead formed an attachment to Captain Benwick had been a great surprise! Now Anne looked again at the pretty young woman across the table from her. Louisa was still as young and vivacious as she ever had been, but there was a quietness to her now, a seriousness that had been missing before. Long weeks of convalescence had healed her, but taken its toll on her former self. She radiated a peace of mind and calmness that had previously been lacking.

"We said as much, didn't we, Louisa?" Henrietta's assertion interrupted Anne's thoughts, and she smiled. "We could tell there was some past connection between you, a romance or a friendship - of course we never dreamed after all this time…!" Henrietta beamed at her again.

"Well, Louisa, you asked me to call on you and so I thought I ought." Anne said, changing the subject to her true purpose in visiting. "What would you like to do today? We could take a walk, if you are well enough, or -"

"Oh, yes, do let's go out. The weather is too pleasant to stay indoors, only we'd better wait here until Mary surfaces. She shall be so cross if we go without her."

"Where is Mary?" Anne asked, her eyes resting on the empty seat at the table.

"Asleep," Charles said. "Mama and Papa have already gone out, but Mary asked not to be disturbed early this morning, after staying late at Lady Russell's."

"Oh, did you stay?" Anne asked. What she meant was: _did anything happen after I left? What conversation did I miss, and was I featured in it?_

"Yes, the time fairly flew by after you went home." He paused, then smiled a little apologetically. "No offense."

"None taken," Anne said, and she meant it. She liked her brother-in-law's simplicity and good humour and knew he very rarely thought or spoke ill of anyone.

"Anyway if you young ladies wish to go on your walk, I can bring Mary along once she is breakfasted." He named a tearoom which was popular with their set. "Shall we meet for tea? I'm sure she will be keen to join you."

The idea was agreed upon as being a good one, and before long Anne and the two Musgrove sisters bustled out into the town, eager to escape the house before Mary awakened, lest she delay their departure any longer.

"How are you feeling, Louisa?" Anne asked, eager at last to get a personal report of Louisa's health. Although her recovery had been long since been ascertained, circumstances and life at Bath had kept Anne from setting her own eyes on her young friend before now, and she was pleased to see Louisa looking hale and well, though a little paler than she remembered her.

"Quite well, though I must be careful to rest often."

"Even more so with a wedding to plan," Henrietta interposed.

"Indeed, and she is not the only one, I hear?"

"No, I am to be married too, to Charles Hayter. You recall him, don't you Anne? He joined us once or twice while you were at Uppercross."

Anne smiled and said that she did, and Henrietta's face lit up with pleasure at Anne's agreement that he had indeed seemed like a fine young man and quite clearly deeply in love with Henrietta.

"Charles is all well and good if you enjoy quiet country living," Louisa said, with a sniff. "But I am so much more enamoured by a man who is well educated, and who has travelled."

"Charles has travelled," Henrietta protested. "Why, he is in London at this very moment."

"London, indeed." Louisa said, in a tone that suggested little approval of the nation's capital when compared with a voyage across the seas.

What followed amounted to little more than a direct comparison of the sisters' beaus, as unlike as two men could conceivably be, and yet destined to be related, through marriage, to two sisters as alike as the Musgrove girls.

As they drew within sight of the tea room, Anne breathed a quiet sigh of relief, and interrupted the rapidly-escalating sisterly squabble with a suggestion that they stop inside for a moment and take tea while they waited for Mary. This idea was met with enthusiasm, and offered a distraction from talk of husbands and their most redeeming qualities, until the tea had arrived and a hush quite fallen over the table.

"Anne, you as usual have allowed us to talk all morning and shared little yourself," Louisa said, laying a sisterly hand on Anne's and giving it a squeeze. "Tell us all about Frederick."

"Yes!" Henrietta said. "Oh, do tell us everything. How did he propose? Did you know he loved you before he said anything? Oh, I'm sure it was so romantic. Do tell us!"


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N - I am so grateful for all the reads and comments - I hope you are enjoying! Happy reading :)_

* * *

Anne busied herself with pouring tea, hoping that it would serve as a distraction, but if it did it wasn't enough of one.

"I heard Charles was walking you home and cried off to allow Captain Wentworth to escort you, and the next any of us knew you were engaged!"

"It wasn't quite as simple as that," Anne said, smiling. "Of course, we had known each other quite some time before, though I am not sure you knew that."

"I'd heard you had had a friendship, perhaps even a romance…" Louisa mused, taking a sip of her tea. "That you had parted rather than married, obviously. It was before Charles -"

"Was that why you refused Charles?" Henrietta jumped in. "Because you were still in love with…well, with Captain Wentworth - though I don't suppose he was a Captain back then, was he?"

"He was. He had just recently been made one and was in port awaiting his first real commission at the point that we met," Anne said. "And that point was made quite compellingly to me, that if I did intend to marry him I would be chancing my future on the hope that he excelled in the Navy." She blinked, remembering Lady Russell's words. She had been kinder at least than Sir Walter, who had scarcely contained himself. _Who is this Wentworth? What does he have to recommend himself to you? He has no name, no fortune, and yet he considers himself an adequate match for Anne Elliot? No. No Elliot will throw herself away on someone so far below her status._ At least he had tempered his words a little in Frederick's hearing, and Anne had borne Sir Walter's true feelings alone, in silence. Elizabeth's, too, who had found the whole thing deliciously amusing.

"I don't believe I should have allowed myself to be so easily persuaded," Louisa said, with a dreamy tone. "See, even with Captain Benwick, my parents were unsure of the match." She folded her hands in her lap. "I merely convinced them of his feelings for me, and once they saw our mutual affection they could not stand in our way."

"But Mother and Father are just so pleased to have you well again, they will bend to your will on any matter on which you care to share an opinion," Henrietta grumbled, with more than a note of bitterness.

"And why not use that to my advantage? They were already delighted about your marrying Charles, you didn't need to apply any persuasion for that marriage to take place."

Anne watched the sisters in conversation, grateful to be out of the spotlight one moment more. Subconsciously, her hand slid to her reticule, and she ran a fingertip over the edge of Frederick's letter, a reminder that no matter the bitterness in their past, their love had merely grown stronger with separation, and now no amount of interference from others could tear it down.

"What are you hiding there, Anne?" Louisa asked, spying the movement.

Anne snatched her hand out of her purse, but the motion brought the reticule with it, upending the bag and sending its contents onto the floor.

"What is it?" Henrietta cried, bending as Anne did to retrieve her belongings.

"Nothing," Anne said, quickly, though she felt colour rising in her cheeks ready to betray her.

"You fib!" Louisa said. "Is it a love note? Oh, do, do let us see it."

"Here, I have it!" Henrietta said, reaching the note just before Anne could, and whisking it out of her reach. "Here, let's read what it says."

Anne retrieved the rest of her belongings and returned her reticule to the table as the two younger girls bent over her note. Anne watched them carefully, her heart pounding in her chest. She did not like to think of people reading something that was so special to her, yet how could she stop it without mortally offending her two young friends?

The door opened, and Anne held her hand out for the letter as she heard Charles and Mary crossing the small tea room to join them.

"You see Mary, I told them we would find them without any difficulty," Charles spoke patiently in an attempt to smooth Mary's ruffled feathers.

"That is not the point," Mary asserted. "I merely said it was a pity that you, Anne, could not be prevailed on to wait but a minute until I was ready to join you."

"Were you quite ready Mary?" Louisa asked, with an impish grin. "We thought you were probably still fast asleep."

"What are you looking at?" Mary asked, her eyes sharp on the table top. "Charles, you may go and enquire about your gun or whatever it was you wanted. I am settled now."

"Fine," Charles said, and bid the women a polite farewell, swiftly departing the uncomfortably feminine environment for something altogether more interesting.

"I asked what you were looking at," Mary repeated. "Anne, you have just hidden something away in your reticule, what have I missed?"

"Nothing." Anne said, quickly.

"A love note!" Henrietta trilled. "Here, let Mary read it. Captain Wentworth wrote it to Anne, isn't it wonderful?"

Mary's eyes scanned the few short lines quickly. She passed it back to Anne, with an unimpressed frown.

"Why, I don't think it is that elegant a letter. After all, it's not as if he said the words to you in person."

"No indeed!" Louisa agreed. "I believe declaring one's love openly, as one feels it, is the truest mark of one's affection. I shouldn't marry a man who isn't brave enough to wear his heart on his sleeve. I don't want a husband who's afraid of his feelings for me."

"Hardly afraid!" Anne said. "It was a difficult situation, for we neither of us were quite sure how the other felt -"

"All the more reason to declare it!" Louisa said. "Can you not imagine, walking along the river and all of a sudden he stops and informs you that all the affection he once had for you, all that you had assumed was lost, not only remained but had in fact grown in the interceding years…?" She sighed. "That would be so romantic."

"I still don't see why you didn't just get married in the first place," Henrietta said. "Eight years is far too long to live without each other, never knowing if he still loved you, or if there would ever be a chance of your reconciling." She shuddered. "I am glad Charles and I shall marry soon."

"Not before Captain Benwick and I," Louisa said. She turned to Anne. "You are coming to our wedding aren't you? I know he will want Captain Wentworth to come, and you must too, oh, Anne, you must!"

"Of course, I intend to," Anne said, taking her letter back and slipping it safely inside her reticule once more.

"I don't see why you should be so desperate for Anne to attend your wedding any more than me," Mary said. She lifted the lid of the tea pot and peered inside. "Is there another cup anywhere, or am I merely to sit and watch you drink tea?"

"Let me fetch one," Anne said, hurrying to her feet before either of the other girls could offer to undertake the task.

The matter-of-fact dismissal her letter had received from her friends made Anne sigh. Clearly they did not understand Frederick Wentworth the way she did. Nor her, even. Great sweeping declarations of love had never suited her, nor would they! This showed true kinship, true alikeness of character and sentiment. And surely Frederick's willingness to spend time with Sir Walter and Lady Russell even after they had so summarily dismissed him eight years ago showed his commitment to Anne far more deeply than any romantic notion that captured the hearts and minds of the Musgroves.

Anne returned to their table and poured her sister a cup of tea.

"…must we hear yet again of the intricacies of your wedding plans, Louisa?" Mary was saying. "I do declare, you seem convinced that you are the only person to ever _get_ married…"


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N - News! The full novella **After the Letter** will be available as an e-book to purchase on various online retailers tomorrow (Tuesday 16th August) - if you would like a copy or can't wait to see how it finishes, you can purchase it to keep. I will continue to post chapters here on Mondays and Thursdays, if you prefer to read in serialized sections for free._

 _Thank you again for all the reads, comments and advice - I appreciate every one!_

* * *

 _ **The First Wedding**_

"I cannot thank you enough for taking on this task," Captain Harville said, as he walked with Frederick the circuit of the small chapel Captain Benwick and Louisa Musgrove were to be married in. The groom himself had asked for a few moments alone to collect his thoughts, and his friends had happily permitted it, grateful for the chance to talk freely between themselves.

"You make it sound like one of the trials of Hercules!" Frederick said, with a laugh. "Standing up at the wedding of a good friend and colleague could hardly be anything other than a pleasure!"

"For you, perhaps." Harville sighed.

Frederick watched him carefully.

"You are not opposed to the match?"

"Opposed? Far from it. Benwick could scarcely do better than Louisa Musgrove, now that my poor sister is no longer amongst us," He paused. "But that does not make the task of supporting him any easier."

He stared into the distance, and Frederick could tell his friend no longer saw the chapel grounds, nor even Frederick himself. For a brief moment, Harville was lost in memories of times past.

"It will be impossible for me not to look upon Louisa Musgrove and see my sister, see the wedding she might have had, the _life_ she might have had." He frowned. "Do you understand? And it is all so soon. Why could he happily wait to marry Fanny - wait until it was too late - and yet not dare to risk even a month longer before he marries Miss. Musgrove?"

Frederick paused a moment before responding.

"Do you not think that perhaps it is precisely because of what happened to Fanny that Benwick is refuses to delay a second time? Remember, of course, Miss. Musgrove has already had one brush with death. Benwick must be fearful of facing the same fate twice."

His tone was low, his voice as gentle as he could make it. He knew the loss of Harville's sister still weighed heavily on his friend.

"You are right, of course," Harville said, finally. "And I guess you know a somewhat of which you speak, for you must be eager to marry Miss. Anne and not wait any longer than necessary. Is the date set yet?"

Frederick sensed his friend's attempt to turn the topic of their conversation and allowed him the distraction, though it was now far less easy for Frederick to speak, unwilling as he was to revisit his own past failings.

"Not yet," he said. "But you see through my disguise. I admit I will not rest easy until the whole business is done with and we are married."

"You do not doubt Anne's affections-?" Harville looked at him sharply.

"No, no." Frederick said, with a smile. "No of course not. It's only.." he hesitated, wondering how best to explain his anxiety to his friend, without seeming himself as if he were creating obstacles to be overcome. "Her family still does not entirely approve of me, I fear," he said, in a low tone.

"Not _approve_ of you? Why, Wentworth, I'm sure you are mistaken. You are a Captain, with successes to your record most men would dream of. And you both care for one another, you are both free to marry and of age so what more could possibly stand in your way?"

"Her father has never cared greatly for the Navy and I don't doubt her godmother would much rather she marry another - but, look, here comes Benwick." He turned to greet the returning groom. "And it is wrong of me to lay my problems on your shoulders on such a day as this. Come, let's not dwell on it any longer. You need not concern yourself with me, t'will all come right in the end."

He clapped Harville on the back, a last, wordless, encouragement and the two men turned to greet James Benwick, who was smiling warmly at them.

"Are you ready, my good man?" Frederick asked, amazed at the change love had wrought on his friend. He remembered Benwick at sea, who had thought and written of little other than Fanny, and their plans to marry immediately upon his return to England. To see that hope wrenched away from him as he learned of her death had been a hard thing for Frederick to watch, for both of his friends suffered – one at the loss of a sister, and the other of a fiancée. He had struggled to know how best to support them, though realised that allowing the men to grieve together would help, and indeed, James Benwick had lodged with the Harville's until very recently, and quietly nursed his grief. He had much to owe the man, for he knew it was in conversation with Benwick that Anne had begun to come to his attention once more. As if she had ever been far from his attention! But he had convinced himself - by sheer force of will, or so he thought - that he cared nothing for her, that he barely noticed her. How foolish he had been, and how grateful that he now still had a chance to undo his folly and embrace the future he had once believed lost to him forever!

"Harville, are you joining us, or will you sit?" Frederick asked, watching how his friend leaned heavily on his cane, and winced as they began to move.

"I think I will sit with my family, if it is all the same to you," Harville said. He hesitated at the door, and laid a hand on Benwick's arm, and, sensing that the two men wished a moment of privacy to share a word or two, Frederick took his leave. He walked into the church, and took the place he had been given, at the front of the building next to where Benwick would stand and await Louisa's arrival.

The small church was full of the young couple's family and friends, with one half of the chapel being full to bursting with Musgrove connections alone. Benwick's side was a little more sparse, though Frederick noticed a few comrades in arms, to whom he nodded warmly, and smiled at Mrs. Harville and her children, who were sitting patiently towards the front of the church. For the children, this wedding was the culmination of many weeks of nursing "Miss. Louisa" and he knew they were almost as excited as their Mama to see the romance they had witnessed blossoming come into fruition.

He glanced back towards the Musgroves, missing Henrietta, of course, who would be a bridesmaid, and Mr. and Mrs. Musgrove who he assumed would be arriving with their daughter. But here was Charles, beaming as a proud brother, and Mary, who was flanked by two little boys she gave very little attention to. One was peering around the church, enjoying spying out the other attendees, but the other had found a willing victim in Anne, and was chattering constantly in her ear. His aunt was doing her best to answer what seemed to be a litany of questions about a hundred different topics. Frederick's eyes rested on her a moment longer, until she must have felt the intensity of his gaze and looked up, smiling a little in encouragement, before her young nephew demanded her attention once more. He was grateful they could both be here, and internally rejoiced that people he might count as friends had now become, by virtue of first Mary and now Louisa, family to Anne. Her immediate family were not in attendance, although he had it on good authority that Sir Walter and Miss. Elliot had sent a gift, and their profuse apologies. He felt certain that Sir Walter's absence was rather more to do with the unfashionability of the chapel and its homely, though happy, congregants, rather than the profession of illness he had offered by way of excuse, but he shook off the thought. All of the people here cared deeply for Captain Benwick and for Louisa, and wished them well. Would he and Anne have the same good fortune on their wedding day?

The sound of hoof-prints made him straighten, and he turned to see Benwick and Harville walking down the church together.

"Louisa is arriving," Benwick said, smiling nervously. "So I s'pose there'll be no more delaying."

"No, indeed," Frederick said, and turned back towards the front of the church. The wedding was starting.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N - I hope you are all still enjoying this story! We're about halfway through now, so still plenty to come and I will keep updating a couple of scenes a week. If you just can't wait that long, **After the Letter** is available to purchase now! Either way, see you here Monday for what happens next..._

* * *

The doors to the small chapel were flung open, and a smiling Captain Benwick, with his arm around his new wife, crossed the threshold of the church to be greeted by friends and family and passer-by who adorned the happy pair with flowers and laughter.

Anne beamed and saw her happiness reflected in those that stood nearby, following the young couple out into the noon sunshine. Mrs. Musgrove was in floods of tears, but only because she was "So happy…so very happy!" and even the usually jovial Mr. Musgrove appeared to have a little something in his eye.

The church was not far from Uppercross, and most of the couple's family and friends chose to take the walk with them, as was tradition. Anne was pleased to see Frederick pausing to help Captain and Mrs. Harville and their children into a buggy, and waited a few moments for him to finish this duty so that they could walk together.

"It was a nice wedding, do not you think?" Frederick asked, as Anne took his arm and they followed a few paces behind the procession, where they were able to secure some peace and quiet to talk together.

"Beautiful," she said. "I saw you took Harville's place at the front of the church." She wet her lips. "I hope he was quite alright…?" She remembered a conversation she had shared with Captain Harville, that fateful day that Frederick had confessed his feelings for her, where they had spoken of love, and of loss. Harville had been wrestling even then with Captain Benwick's newfound attachment to Louisa Musgrove. "I was under the impression he approved of the match?"

"He does," Frederick said, shortly. They walked on in silence for a moment. "He does approve of it, the Harvilles adore Louisa. After so long nursing her she has become like family to them: Benwick, too, is more a brother than a mere friend to Harville. I think it was just a hard thing to face, this day, which would have been Fanny's, had fate not so cruelly intervened…"

"I see," Anne said. "Perhaps I will try to speak a little with him later."

"He would enjoy that. He thinks very highly of you."

Anne's cheeks warmed at this praise from a man that Frederick held so dear.

"And I think highly of him. You know I think all of your friends are wonderful." She smiled.

"I'm glad."

They walked a few more steps in easy, companionable silence, before Frederick spoke again.

"Harville asked me when our wedding was to be."

Anne glanced up at him, but his expression was unreadable.

"And what did you tell him?" She asked, a slight smile playing about her lips.

"I said it couldn't happen soon enough for my liking." He clasped her a little tighter. "After all, I think eight years and a half is quite long enough to wait, don't you?"

"Yes," she hesitated, and Frederick seized upon it.

"And yet you have reservations?"

"No," Anne said quickly. "No, not reservations. Rather…I wish people had a little more time to get used to the idea."

"By people I assume you mean your father and sister? Your dear Lady Russell?"

Anne flinched at his stinging tone, and instantly he apologised.

"I think it is somewhat apparent from Lady Russell's behaviour at her gathering the other evening that time or no she is as unlikely to "get used" to the idea of us marrying as she was the first time I asked you."

"I agree she wasn't exactly kind, but -"

"And yet you still defend her!"

"She is my friend."

They had stopped walking by this point, and the crowd they had been following had largely disappeared into the Musgrove's house or dispersed.

"Are we always going to argue about your friends?" Frederick asked.

"I imagine it will depend on how soon you are able to forgive them for past grievances."

"Forgive? Anne, the lady has never apologised - look, she still does exactly as she always has, turning your head to whatever course of action she thinks best suits you, with little enough regard for your own opinions -"

"Whereas you are happy to let me alone to my opinions, but not my choice of company?"

"Company whose motivations are questionable, and whose influence over you has proven dangerously damaging in the past -"

"Quite! _In the past_. I am sure both of us have many things in our pasts that we regret - "

"And yet you seem oblivious to the risk of repeating the mistake of trusting Lady Russell -"

"Hie! Wentworth, is that you?" Captain Harville's voice carried from the buggy that rolled up towards them, and Anne and Frederick were forced to declare an uneasy truce.

He hesitated just a moment before the frustration rent from his face, and he turned to his friend with a wave.

"Hello, Harville. Did you take the scenic route?"

The buggy slowed to a stop, and its driver nodded, climbing down from the seat and opening the door to help the Harville family dismount. Frederick also offered his hand to help the children scramble down, and dismissed the driver, who walked the buggy around towards the Musgroves' stables.

"It was lovely," Mrs. Harville said, as she walked around to where Anne was standing. "I've not seen much of the countryside here before now, and so my husband suggested we take a short drive, and allow the happy couple to settle in for a moment before we joined the party." She peered around them. "Where is everyone?"

"Inside, I believe," Anne said. "Come, shall I help you with the children?"

"Oh, not a bit!" Mrs. Harville said, glancing towards her husband and Frederick, who were standing awkwardly by, watching the two women. Understanding travelled across Mrs. Harville's face, and she cleared her throat. "My dear husband will help me." She turned a pointed glance at Captain Harville. "Dear husband! Help me with the children…"

Smiling briefly at Wentworth, Captain Harville manoeuvred around and helped to herd his family towards the big house.

Frederick took a step closer to Anne, and silently offered her his arm. After hesitating a moment longer than necessary, she took it.

"I do dislike arguing with you," he grumbled.

"I can't say I am fond of it," Anne admitted. "And I understand your concerns, I do, but Lady Russell…my father…they are my family, and I cannot just disregard their feelings."

"Even when they care little enough for yours?" Frederick stopped, and Anne stopped with him. "Anne, you have a tender heart, and you care too deeply for people who rarely show you the same regard. Can you not, for once, put your - our! - happiness first? Let us marry, and soon, and then this whole issue will be settled." The door opened, and a warm shout of laughter reached them. Anne felt her frown melt, and a small smile tugged at Frederick's mouth. "You see? Nobody can be unhappy at a wedding."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Six**

 _ **Delays**_

Upon her return to Bath, Anne was allowed the benefit of late rising, to compensate for her late arrival the evening before: when she sat down to breakfast the rest of the party were already part-way through their meal. Fortunately breakfast, like any other meal, was not an occasion to be rushed, as far as Sir Walter was concerned, and he greeted his daughter's arrival with a sniff.

"You survived your visit to Uppercross with nary a problem?"

Anne nodded.

"And how was the Musgrove girl's wedding?"

"Benwick," Anne interposed. "She is no longer Musgrove, but Benwick. Louisa Benwick." Anne smiled. "And the wedding was a happy one."

"Indeed." Her father took a sip of tea. "We shall see if the marriage remains so. I hear that he suffers from low spirits?"

"Captain Benwick is quite well, now, father," Anne said. She served herself with a slice of pound cake and poured a cup of tea. "He was brought low by grief, but that is quite to expected, once one understands the circumstances -"

"I don't know," Sir Walter said, shaking his head. "I think allowing circumstances to dictate one's mood shows a dangerous lack of self-control."

Anne's grip on her teacup tightened.

"Personally, I think it shows a great depth of feeling -"

"Which is quite father's point, Anne," Elizabeth said, from the other side of the breakfast table. "One should have the confidence and poise to resist giving into _feeling_ all the time. It's quite inelegant."

"Indeed, I would even go as far as to say it's rather _European,_ " Her father said, with distaste. "An Englishman should be able to contain his emotions and allow his wits to dictate his actions," he turned to Mrs. Clay. "Don't you agree?"

"Oh, indeed I do, Sir Walter." Penelope Clay turned a watery smile on her benefactor, before risking a glance at Anne. "Though I do also understand Miss. Anne's perspective. It can be difficult, when one feels strongly, to separate one's emotions from the wisest course of action. I imagine it would take a man of _exceptional character,_ to -"

"Quite so, quite so." Sir Walter waved away the rest of Mrs. Clay's comment, and abruptly changed the subject. "Well, Anne, I suppose you have had your fill of weddings for some time now."

"Hardly, father!" Anne said, with a tentative smile. "After all, Henrietta Musgrove will marry soon, and of course there is my own wedding to prepare."

"Yes, but that shall hardly take place so soon." Sir Walter said. "Why, we shall likely be back in Kellynch before your marriage takes place -"

"Actually, father, we have asked for the banns to be read rather sooner than that, beginning this Sunday." Anne hid her face in her teacup, already sensing her father's reaction would not be one of delight or happy acceptance.

"What do you mean, the banns are to be read for the first time this coming Sunday?" Sir Walter's teacup crashed back onto its saucer. "Here? In Bath?"

"Well, yes." Anne laughed, uncertainly. "Captain Wentworth and I are both staying here, it seemed the most apt location. The wedding could take place as little as three weeks from now."

"Three weeks?!" Sir Elliott's voice rose a clear octave, and Anne winced.

"Really, Anne, you might have given us some warning," Elizabeth said, setting her plate aside. "I don't understand the need to rush."

"It's hardly a rush," Anne said. "Why, it's perfectly proper to begin to plan a wedding once you have agreed to marry. Frederick has already agreed with you, father, on the matter of settlement, and once the banns are read we will have but ninety days in which to hold the ceremony." Anne felt the colour rising in her cheeks. "As it's only to be a small ceremony, I doubt it will be unduly difficult to organise in a short time."

"Only a small ceremony? Anne, you are an Elliot, there are certain proprieties which must be observed. This is particularly true if you are to marry at Bath." A worried frown crossed Sir Walter's face. "After all, there are so many people here who matter. Who, pray, do you plan on inviting to this 'small ceremony'? Your family? Or were we only to hear of it when the announcement appeared in the newspaper after the fact?"

"You exaggerate, father," Anne said, patiently. "You knew Frederick and I intended to marry, and you offered no objection. As I understood, settlement was amicably and easily reached. You cannot think we intend to get engaged and then wait forever to marry."

"Well you managed perfectly well to wait nearly a decade, is a few months' more really such a hardship?"

"A few months more?" Anne's lips tightened. "Father, why delay so long? Nothing in either of our circumstances is set to change, it seems pointless to wait - unless you have a particular reason for a delay -"

"I do, yes in fact, I do." Sir Walter's voice rose in angry staccato. He waved towards one of the servants standing patiently by the door of the dining room. "Pull open those blinds a little wider, would you, that my unobservant daughter might see why now is not the ideal time of year in which to hold a wedding."

The man did as instructed, and Anne sighed, acknowledging the weather beyond their four walls. Rain fell in sheets, and the whole of Bath appeared washed in a blanket of grey.

"You see?" Sir Walter turned back to his breakfast as if the mere fact of the weather had served so adequate a statement in defence of his position that it required little further explanation. The attention to which he gave his digestion indicated the matter was closed.

"Father," Anne began again. "One can hardly hope to control the weather -"

"One can, and one should," He said. "By waiting until a more propitious season to marry. You will marry in June." He paused, turning the matter over in his mind. "In fact, perhaps even June is too soon, for we shall still be in Bath. _Next_ June may be better. By then we shall be back in Somerset and need not worry about offending our cousins the Dalrymples by forcing them to attend."

" _Next_ June?" Anne's heart sank. "You must not be serious. That is more than a year away, father, and -"

"And? What is a year when you have the rest of your lives together? The weather in June is always kinder to one's constitution, and to one's colouring."

Elizabeth cleared her throat.

"Yes, Anne you are so pale that in winter you are practically translucent. At least wait for spring, when the sun might treat you a little more kindly." She paused, regarding her sister unflinchingly. "Though I doubt it will make much difference."


	12. Chapter 12

_Father wishes us to delay until next June._

Frederick had received Anne's note with interest, though its contents quickly soured his disposition. He knew Anne's father to be unenthusiastic about their marriage, but he had assumed that was influenced by Sir Walter's lack of enthusiasm for anything relating to his middle daughter. The man had bordered on ingratiating when he and Frederick had discussed the settlement. Of course at that point, Sir Walter was likely preoccupied in preserving what little remained of the Elliot estate, and fixing only what Anne was due, no more or no less. Frederick cared little for finances, and even less for Sir Walter's concern over social standing. Let his title and property pass to Mr. William Elliot, he cared little enough about grand country estates. That he and Anne might marry, that was all that had mattered to him. And now the man wished them to wait until next June?

"Next June!" Frederick fumed, casting the letter aside with nothing close to the reverence with which he usually treated correspondence from his betrothed. "Damned Elliot," he muttered. "Will my life always be ruled by people who despise me?"

"Is something the matter, brother?" Sophia asked, looking up from her embroidery and shooting him an inquisitive look. Several sighs and internal storms had so far interrupted her peaceful morning, and she would evidently bear it no longer without explanation.

"Only that the wedding is to be delayed. Again." He snatched up the note and stormed over to his sister, thrusting it before her face. Her eyes scanned it quickly, and she drew her lips together in a line, pausing a moment to gather her thoughts before responding.

"Anne does not say _she_ wishes to delay, dear, only that her father has made a suggestion -"

"Hardly a suggestion. Sir Walter makes pronouncements, Sophy, and they are to be obeyed at all cost." He knit his brows. "It's part of their scheme, I don't doubt it. Delay the wedding until Anne can be persuaded to pull out of it altogether."

"Impossible." Sophia said, folding the letter neatly and passing it back to him. "Anne loves you, she wishes to marry you. I am sure Sir Walter will be willing to compromise on the timings. Why, perhaps she misunderstood him, and he meant this June, which is only a few months away. If you have to wait another few months is it really such a hardship?"

"No." Frederick sighed. If he must, he would wait an eternity to marry Anne, yet he had already waited too long to reach this point, and now their promised wedding seemed to be vanishing into the distance before his very eyes. "No, it is not a hardship, it is an obstacle. And I fear we have already had far too many of those to overcome."

He collapsed from standing onto the sofa opposite her, and scowled at the weather.

"I do not know how you can see well enough to embroider in this ghastly half-light."

"I manage," his sister replied, calmly resuming her work. "And we have been lucky, so far, to be blessed with good weather. A day's rain is little enough penance for a week of sunshine."

Frederick snorted.

"I had arranged for the banns to be read. I suppose I ought to un-arrange it, if now we will be out-waiting the ninety days."

Sophia made a small sound in agreement, but continued to focus her attention on her work.

"You agree that he is being unreasonable, do you not? Anne is a thinking, feeling woman, a rational adult. It's not as if I were trying to run off with his young, impressionable daughter."

"No, you tried that last time," Sophia remarked, with a sly smile. "And it worked badly for both of you."

"I still maintain that was the fault of Sir Walter and Lady Russell. How unfair to have to face them twice in one lifetime." Sighing, he leaned back against the chaise, and his eyes fluttered closed. He had never told Anne of the lone visits he had made to her father and Lady Russell on their behalf, after their first audience had been so badly received. Sir Walter had remained unimpressed at having to discuss the matter again, and without his daughter there to encourage him to mind his tongue he had spoken his mind. His entire attitude towards Frederick had been discouraging, bordering on bleak, but he had never actually said no. He had thrown up obstacles and each one, Frederick had managed to knock aside. Anne's dowry dependent on his commission. A small home while Frederick gained an establishment in the Navy. An engagement while he sailed his first commission, even, and a marriage upon his return. Every suggestion Sir Walter had made, Frederick had countered, until it seemed as if the verbal thrust-and-parry had worked in his favour. Sir Walter so disliked thinking on his feet that he was ill-equipped to do it, especially facing someone younger and cleverer who could answer every concern with a sensible solution. And so, buoyed up by his triumph, Frederick had next sought Lady Russell's council. He knew from Anne that the lady did not approve the match, had seen as much with the look of undisguised dislike that had flickered over her face when he and Anne had gone together to tell her of their intent to marry. Yet he knew that it was Lady Russell, perhaps even more than Anne's father, who would have greatest influence over her decision and future happiness. And so he had taken matters into his own hands and paid Lady Russell a visit alone. His eyebrows knit in an angry frown as he remembered her scathing dismissal. _You have quite bewitched my god-daughter, Captain Wentworth, but I myself do not care for looks or wit. You may be a Captain, but you lack refinement, wealth and dependability. Your temper is too abrupt and you have no place in the society Anne has been born into. I have seen too many good women ruined by allying too early with the wrong man. I shall not allow Anne to number among them._ And then - worse still - to see Anne herself taking Lady Russell's part in it, denying all the words of affection she had offered him, turning her back on all that they had dreamed their future together might be. Was it a wonder he had given up trying to convince her, and sought solace at sea?

"Of course you do not necessarily need to resign yourself to the inevitable quite yet." Sophia mused, breaking into Frederick's stormy internal discourse.

"What?" he cracked one eye open and looked at her.

"Sir Walter opposes a marriage so soon at Bath, correct?"

Frederick grunted in agreement.

"Well we do have at our disposal, do we not, connections in churches outside of Bath?"

Sophia continued to focus on her embroidery, so that it took a further moment or two for the meaning of her words to become apparent to Frederick. _Edward!_ Of course. His brother had met and loved Anne well when first she and Frederick had met - indeed it had been Edward that introduced them. He was unlikely to be cowed by unhelpful family members, and if he and Anne could marry outside of Bath…perhaps that would be enough to rout Sir Walter and Lady Russell, or at least subvert their latest set of objections. And surely Anne would be grateful for the avoidance of further conflict?

"Sophy, you are a genius." He rose, and dropped a kiss on his sister's cheek. "How far would you say Edward's parish in Shropshire is from here?"

Sophia frowned, running a calculation in her mind. Frederick barely heard her answer, he was so busy piecing his plan together. He would need to reside in Shropshire in order to obtain a marriage licence, but perhaps his brother could assist him in securing a place quickly and easily. _It need not be anywhere grand._ An ordinary licence would negate the need for the banns to be read, and whilst he would need to wait the time specified for residency in Shropshire, he would not need to wait it in Bath.

"You still ought to tell Anne's family of your plans…" Sophia said. "Not to mention the bride herself -"

"Tis all in hand, Sophy, don't worry about a thing." Frederick said, as he snatched up his hat and jacket. "I shall go now and make arrangements."

He didn't wait for Sophia's farewell before he had swept out of the door, never minding, nor noticing, the inclement weather.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N - I hope you are enjoying_ After the Letter _\- just a few more chapters to go! The finished novella is available for purchase if you can't wait, otherwise I'll be back with more on Thursday._

 _I have also started work on a second Persuasion-themed story (a prequel this time) which I am hoping to start serializing here in the next week or so. I hope you'll check it out if you've enjoyed_ After the Letter.

 _Now back to the story..._

* * *

 **Chapter Seven**

 _ **A Solution**_

"Oh, Anne, it does do me good to see you." Mrs. Jane Smith eagerly accepted the cup of tea Anne passed to her. "Though I don't doubt, as hostess, I ought to be the one serving you with tea."

"Not at all!" Anne said, taking her own cup and returning to her seat. "We shan't stand on ceremony here, shall we?"

"Indeed not." Jane cast a glance around the small room that served as bedroom, sitting room, parlour and all, and winked heartily at her friend. "I dare say there's little enough free space in here to stand on anything!" She took a sip of her drink. "Now you must tell me more about the Musgrove girl's wedding - only, I suppose she is no longer "Musgrove", is she?"

"Benwick," Anne supplied. "She's Louisa Benwick, and happily wed, by all accounts."

"Wonderful," Jane said. "I do like to hear of happy marriages. Your own is just on the horizon too, I don't doubt?"

Anne didn't answer right away, and her hesitation did not go unnoticed by her friend's eagle eyes.

"Come, now, what are you hiding from me? You know there's no way to keep a secret among friends," She frowned. "Don't tell me fate has thrown another obstacle before you and Captain Wentworth, I scarce can believe it!"

"Not an obstacle," Anne said, taking a sip of her own tea and using the moment of peace it gave her to plan her words carefully. "A delay."

"What more reason can you have to delay?" Jane asked. "Your separation was long enough for two lifetimes! Come on, tell me the trouble and we shall figure a way out of it." She leaned forward and patted Anne on the hand. "If you are reluctant, think how it will be a kindness to me, to give me something new to puzzle over."

"It's hardly a puzzle." Anne sighed. "My father would rather we not marry right away, but wait for a more…propitious time of year."

Jane frowned.

"He means the weather," Anne explained, nodding towards the small window to the outside world that barely brightened Jane Smith's dark room. Her friend turned to look, and laughed at the rain that still hammered Bath into submission.

"Why, there's little point in trying to control the weather! It just as often rains in June as it does January. What difference does that make?"

"Quite my reasoning!" Anne said. "But my father is a difficult man to reason with, when he has made his own mind up."

"Like his daughter." Jane smiled slyly at her friend.

"I hardly think decisiveness is a trait I can claim for myself," Anne said.

"Why ever not?" Her friend protested. "Why, you have come to see me on no less than half a dozen separate occasions. I don't doubt Sir Walter Elliot little enough approves of our friendship and yet you do not let that deter you." She dropped her voice, serious for a moment. "A fact that I am undeniably grateful for."

Anne smiled, warmly. Visiting Jane Smith always did her good, and after the difficult morning she had spent with her family, she had dearly needed to see a friendly face.

"As I see it, there is little point in delaying the wedding. You have a settlement?"

Anne nodded that they had. Frederick had been certain of settling the matter within a few hours of Anne accepting his proposal. Mr. Elliot's reluctance to approve the match had been overshadowed once the fortune Frederick had amassed at sea had become public knowledge. He had agreed the settlement with a level of indifference to his middle daughter that Anne had grown used to.

"Then surely it is up to you and Frederick when and where you marry. You are both of age, and means. Your father will, I'm sure, put his objections to the side once the day arrives."

"There is also Lady Russell…" Anne said, quietly.

"Indeed?" In one word, her old school-friend summed up all the complex feelings she possessed about Anne's godmother. Jane Smith cared about as much for Lady Russell's good opinion as that lady did of the invalid Jane Smith: that is, neither was of great importance to one another. Their shared interest began and ended with Anne's happiness, and they possessed wildly differing ideas on how that was to be accomplished.

"She hosted a dinner - a party, she said, that in reality was just a card party and dinner. A week or more ago now," Anne began.

"I see," Jane said. "And on this evening she contrived to get you alone and whisper her true opinions of quite why Captain Wentworth was still - despite overwhelming proof of his success, fortune and most importantly good character - not good enough for her god-daughter?" Jane's usually unshakeable good mood failed, her voice sharpening, and Anne glanced up at her uncertainly.

"She did not come out and say as much, but I believe her opinions were rather clear." She frowned. "And there is also the question of Mr. Elliot."

"She still persists in forcing you together?" Jane Smith knit her brows. "Well, I have little enough to say on _that man_ that you have not already heard." She shifted in her seat. "You know of his history, and his intentions. Doubtless I am biased in my views, but I cannot in good conscience even consider his virtues in comparison to Captain Wentworth's. There _is_ no comparing them. No matter what Lady Russell has to say on the matter."

"But that's just the thing," Anne said. "Lady Russell's intentions are her own to mind and manoeuvre. Mr. Elliot seemed nothing but pleased to hear of mine and Frederick's engagement."

"Really?" Jane was surprised. She turned the matter over in her mind a full minute before continuing. "Well, now, that does surprise me. I felt certain the two would be working together to derail your agreement with Frederick. I have told you already of his intentions towards you, why would he abandon his plan just because of so small an obstacle as an engagement?"

"Perhaps you were mistaken," Anne ventured. "Perhaps he was merely keen to be my friend."

"I don't doubt it," Jane said, with a snort. "Keen to be your friend, and then your husband, and take the title and property your father still possesses."

"It would serve him ill if that was ever his plan," Anne said. "For any status will pass to Elizabeth, surely, as the eldest."

"Ah, now there is an idea." Jane swallowed the rest of her tea. "Your sister. Perhaps you have merely moved his plan along by getting yourself engaged. Elizabeth remains free, and likely more eager than ever to marry, now that not one but both of her younger sisters are settled."

There was a knock at the door, and Jane glanced at the clock. "Oh, how the morning has run on. This will be my nurse arriving." She turned to the door. "Come in!"

The lively figure of Jane's nurse bustled into the room, and greeted both young women with a warm nod.

"I'll take my leave, in that case" Anne said, returning her empty teacup to a tray set down for the purpose, and taking Jane's from her. "Thank you," she said, clasping her friend's hand warmly. "I cannot begin to tell you how much of an encouragement speaking with you has been to me."

"It is all the more for me, Anne, and I look forward to your next visit! Do consider all I have said, won't you? Do not give in to the desires of others. I can attest well enough that whatever the outcome, it is best to follow one's heart." She grimaced. "Even if leads one to a life of squalor and dependency."

"Hardly squalor!" Her nurse laughed. "For I bring intrigue! Do you want news of the Wainwright's or Abingdon's first?"

Anne laughed, and bid her friends goodbye, walking down the steep steps. She hesitated a moment at the doorway, but was grateful to see the rain had at last eased sufficient to walk home without a thorough drenching.

She decided to take a long route towards home, planning in her mind to call on the Crofts on her way. She was already facing the wrath of Sir Walter for spending so long with Mrs. Jane Smith, who bore little, if any, regard, in her father's estimation. That Anne continually chose to associate with her old school-friend was viewed almost as a personal slight against Sir Walter, and Anne did not look forward to receiving his views on the matter upon her return home.

She turned over all that her friend had said in her mind. It was true, perhaps she was giving way too easily to Sir Walter's wishes. She and Frederick were free to marry, and her father had agreed in principle to the fact of their marriage, what right did he have to dictate the date also?

Suddenly, she was overcome by a desire to see Frederick in person and talk over her father's objections, and their best course of action to subdue them. She had written him a note that morning but received no acknowledgment in return, and she would not rest easily until they had spoken. She turned and walked quickly in the direction of the Croft's house, little noticing a tall, masculine figure walking in the opposite direction. So lost was she in her own thoughts that she almost collided with the stranger before she recognised hm.

"Why, Miss. Anne, good afternoon!" Mr. Elliot said, lifting his hat in a greeting. "I was just on my way to your father's house, and had so hoped I might see you."

"Really?" Anne asked, breathless with agitation and surprise. "Well, I am not there."

"No, indeed, I can see that. Tell me, where are you going, and might you be in need of a companion?"

"No, thank you," Anne said, then swallowed. "Forgive me, but I am quite alright as I am. I have been visiting with an old school-friend of mine, a Mrs. Jane Smith -"

"Mrs. Smith?" Mr. Elliot's eyes shifted, and Anne recalled suddenly that the two were acquainted with one another. Indeed Mr. Elliot and _Mr._ Smith had, at one time, been friends.

"Yes," Anne said, straightening and fixing an unflinching gaze upon her cousin. "In fact, I believe you know her. She is an invalid, and living in quite reduced circumstances after the death of her husband."

"I am sorry to hear that," Mr. Elliot's voice was strangely tight. "It occurs to me I knew a Smith once, though the name is so common I doubt it was the same man."

"I rather believe that it was," Anne said.

Realisation dawned in Mr. Eliot's features, and he nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"I see now where you may have heard such a scathing opinion of my first marriage. Forgive my impertinence, but I must acknowledge to you that not all of my detractors know me well - or indeed at all."

He opened his mouth to continue, but Anne spoke first.

"Mr. Elliot, I am sorry, but I really do not have the time to stop any longer. I am late for an appointment, you see, and-" Anne was looking past him, and a movement caught her eye, the figure of a man and woman walking together. Anne felt her heart sink as she recognised Admiral and Mrs. Croft. They had not seen her, yet, but it was surely only a matter of time.

Her shock must have shown on her face, for Mr. Elliot turned to see what had caught her attention, and he smiled.

"Why, Anne, there are your friends the Crofts! Do let us stop one moment longer to greet them and then I will allow you to return to your errands." He waved, calling out to the Crofts, and with every moment Anne felt hopelessness consume her.

"Good morning, Anne," Admiral Croft said, as the couple drew close. "Mr. Elliot. What brings the two of you out on an afternoon such as this?"

"Why, it is merely a coincidence," Mr. Elliot said. "Anne and I have just run into each other - almost literally!" He laughed, and Anne tried not to let her discomfort at this interaction show in her face. She fixed her attention on Admiral and Mrs. Croft, but when she looked at Sophia she could see something of a shadow flit across her friend's features.

"I was just on my way to call on you, Mrs. Croft." Anne began. "I was hoping to see Frederick too, and-"

"Well in that case it's a good thing we have met you here," Admiral Croft said. "We can save you a journey and tell you that Frederick is not at home this morning. You may see him later today, I don't doubt he will want to call on you before he leaves."

"Leaves? What do you mean?" Anne stammered, searching both faces for some explanation.

"He is planning a trip to Shropshire, to visit Edward." Sophia turned a pensive glance towards Mr. Elliot. "I am not sure how long he intends on being away, but he did seem keen to travel as soon as possible."


	14. Chapter 14

Frederick was exhausted when he finally drew within sight of the small cottage that his brother occupied as part of his curacy in a small Shropshire village. He had been travelling a whole day - longer - and his bones were weary of jerking along the road, first by the mail and then, latterly, by carriage. It was a long journey, for, although there was no pressing urgency, still he felt an inward desire not to delay. His pace was helped by the fact that he travelled alone: they would consider better arrangements when Anne and he journeyed together.

Pace or not, it was still quite some distance from Bath to Shropshire, and he was eager to arrive and discuss his plans with his brother, before further thought convinced him of his folly. Edward would offer him wise counsel, and he was in need of his brother's perspective and support. He had never yet steered him wrong, oftentimes offering advice that would never have occurred to Frederick's logical mind. He was grateful he had Sophia and the Admiral to rely on at Bath, for amongst Anne's family and friends he lacked almost a single supporter.

Drawing close to the grounds of his brother's small estate, Frederick caught the attention of the driver with a smile. "You can let me out here." He said. "I can walk the rest of the way."

His driver was only too happy to return to town, and accepted Frederick's instruction without complaint. Frederick shouldered his small bag and walked confidently towards the house, noticing the difference between the simple gardens in just the few weeks since he had last been here. Edward must have seen his approach, for before he was quite halfway to the house, the main door swung open and his brother stepped out to greet him.

"Why, I would assume my eyes were playing tricks on me. This can't be Frederick, so soon after your last visit?"

"Hello, brother," Frederick said, with a weary smile.

"Mary!" Edward called, as he ushered Frederick over the threshold. "Look who's joined us once more. Evidently the company at Bath proved too much and he seeks the sedateness of country life once more." He pointed Frederick towards the sitting room. "Sit, sir, you must be tired out from travelling." Edward glanced curiously at his brother. "Indeed, you look as if you were in motion all day and all night. Is something the matter?" An anxious thought occurred to him. "There's no problem, I hope? Sophy is quite well?"

"Have you ever known our sister to be ill?" Frederick asked, relishing the opportunity to sit and be quiet, and not have all around him still be moving. He felt the relief of being around his brother once more, and let out a contented sigh.

"Frederick!" Mary Wentworth, Edward's wife of just a few months, came into the sitting room with a welcoming smile. "What a pleasant surprise. You'll stay a while?"

"I was hoping I might," Frederick said. "There's a matter I wish to discuss with you." He met his brother's eyes. "And so I wondered if I might stay a day or two, hardly longer than that. It's not too much trouble is it, Madame?" he glanced up.

Mary waved away his comment.

"It's no trouble, you are family - and as such I will implore you, _again_ , to please use my name when you refer to me."

"Mrs. Wentworth," Frederick grinned at her. "You are, as ever, too hospitable to your bachelor brother-in-law."

"Bachelor no longer, I hear." Edward said. "And we are glad of it." He shook Frederick's hand heartily. "Only I wish you had brought your fiancée with you. It is too long since I laid eyes on Anne myself and I'm eager to ask if she couldn't manage to secure a proposal from anyone better than you in the past few years…" He chuckled, to let Frederick know he was teasing him, but the comment stung, coming as it did so soon after Frederick had revisited the old opinions of Anne's family on that very account.

"Why, don't frown so!" Edward said. "I was only joking. It was plain to all the world that Miss. Anne loved you even years ago, I don't doubt that her affection has merely grown with your separation. It was you, if I recall, who took some persuading to the idea of loving her again."

"Hardly persuading," Frederick said. He glanced up at Mary, who excused herself and went to prepare a tray of tea for their visitor. "When I came to see you it was an attempt to reconcile the truth of my feelings with the situation I was embroiled in. I always knew I loved her, despite my attempts to find another, there is no woman to compare to Anne in all the world." He nodded deferentially to Edward and thence to Mary. "Present company excepted of course."

"Of course." Edward regarded his brother with compassion. "So if all is well and the engagement agreed upon, why your sudden visit? Not that you are not welcome, of course, but -" He hesitated. "I cannot help but observe your agitation. Speak plainly, and tell what the matter is."

Frederick explained, in as brief a manner as he could, the less than enthusiastic reactions his and Anne's marriage plans had garnered from her family and friends, and how difficult it was proving to arrange their wedding in Bath.

"And yet, neither of you are fond of Bath, or did I misunderstand the numerous complaints you made about being forced to visit Sophy and the Admiral there rather than in the green grounds of Kellynch?"

"I admit, I have never cared greatly for society, and it is all at Bath this winter." Frederick sighed. "Bath itself is pretty enough, though I doubt it would ever be a place I could call home."

"And so you wish to marry, and soon." Edward nodded, slowly, his eyes glittering with amusement. "Ah, I begin to see the reasons behind your sudden decision to visit us here in Shropshire. You believe I might be able to help you?"


	15. Chapter 15

_**Days In Between**_

"It is all organised?" Edward asked, as Frederick returned to their cottage after his morning of running errands.

"Yes, and without too much difficulty." Frederick nodded.

"Samuel Collins is a decent enough gentleman, and he will be a fair landlord. How long did you seek tenancy for?"

"Only half a year," Frederick said. "We have not yet decided where we shall live, and though Shropshire is lovely, and 'twould be a blessing to be so near to you…" He trailed off.

"I understand!" Edward punched him lightly on the arm. "You cannot conceive of living so far away from the sea. Indeed, your bride may have an opinion all her own on where she wishes to build a home…!" He cast a glance over his shoulder at where Mary could be heard instructing their housekeeper on a matter. Frederick smiled, shaking his brother's hand heartily.

"If I have not yet said it, matrimony suits you, Ed." He said, taking a seat on the broad chaise that had become his preferred location in the Wentworth sitting room.

"As it will you, I don't doubt. You need something to fret over, if not sailors under your command, then a household." He grinned. "You are not planning on heading back out to sea just yet?"

"If the Navy needs me," Frederick said. "I watch the news reports most avidly, but it seems that talk of Napoleon raising an army is, as yet, still just that. Talk." He sighed. "It would be a sacrifice to leave Anne so soon after we wed, but it is no less than my duty - and by defending our nation I defend her too."

"You still have not changed your views, then, that a woman's place is at home not on a ship." Edward chuckled. "And I thought prolonged association with our sister would have stamped that idea quite into the dirt."

"She tried!" Frederick laughed. "Believe me, she tried." He blinked. "War is of course a different concern, and not a fit place for any woman."

"But in peace-time?" Edward pressed.

"In peace-time…I would find it difficult indeed to leave Anne behind for more than a moment. I would not wish her to suffer the privations of life on ship, but if I could surmount those and still keep her by my side…" He trailed off. "Let us agree that I have come to understand the attraction of having one's wife nearby on a long journey. If Anne was to agree, I am sure we could be just as happy travelling together abroad as we would be at home."

"What's this?" Mary asked, bustling in. "Has Frederick Wentworth changed his mind?"

"I believe so Mary." Edward pulled his wife close to him. "Quick, reach for the calendar and mark the date. My dear brother has been persuaded to deviate from his own set and certain course. Alert the presses!"

"I did not say so!" Frederick protested, laughing at his family's teasing. "Merely that I can see the appeal…"

"Indeed, indeed!" Edward chuckled.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, broken presently when Edward spoke again.

"So, with the lease, everything has been organised? You understand you will need to reside her for four weeks at least, before the licence can be obtained."

"Yes," Frederick said. "I will return to Bath to discuss our plans with Anne, but my lease begins immediately. Is there anything else that might further delay us?"

"I cannot imagine there will be," Edward said. "You will of course need witnesses, but once word reaches Sophy and the Admiral, wild horses would not keep them away. Anne's family, too, if they can deign to visit a small country parsonage such as this." Edward smiled, grimly, for he remembered the 'Elliot pride' well.

"I cannot speak for Sir Walter or Elizabeth," Frederick said. "But I imagine Mary will be persuaded by Charles to attend, and perhaps his sisters and their husbands, though of course travel and cost are considerations." He paused. "I would dearly like my friends, Harville and Benwick, to be there, but it is not quite fair to ask them to make such a journey for the sake of one wedding ceremony." He glanced around the room, and smiled at his hosts. "Also, I fear inviting too many people to stay in such a cosy home: for the house I have taken is not at all large."

"It hardly matters," Mary said. "Shrewsbury is but a short ride away, and I am sure that is quite cosmopolitan enough to amuse such of Anne's family as prefer town to country living." She smiled. "And yet is Kellynch not quite countryside?"

"Ah, but countryside of a specific sort, my dear sister-in-law," Frederick said. "Trust me, if Sir Walter Elliot can find cause to dislike a person or a place he will, regardless of the logic of thinking men."

They lapsed once more into momentary quiet, before Edward spoke again.

"Well, as lovely as it is to have you to stay, I assume you will be returning to Bath before long?"

"I shall begin my journey this evening," Frederick said. "I can take a carriage to Shrewsbury and thence the mail on down to Bath." He smiled. "Not that I am not grateful for your hospitality, and your help."

Edward waved off his thanks.

"And I will see you again upon my return and after, so that we may conclude our business."

"'Conclude our business'!" Mary hooted "Why, if you mean a marriage then say marriage. Do not do us out of what little romance we still manage to find in these parts."

"So shortly wed and yet already jaded. My poor Mary, your life is already so full of romance what need of finding more do you have?" Edward sighed, though his eyes still twinkled with fun. "You, sir, have this yet to look forward to."

"I do," Frederick mused, a smile playing about his lips. "I have all this to look forward to."


	16. Chapter 16

"Four days and still this rain persists!" Sir Walter sighed, looking up from his chess game to glance woefully out of the window.

 _Four days,_ Anne thought, staring straight ahead. It had been four days since her morning visit to Mrs. Smith. Four days since she had bumped into first Mr. Elliot and then Admiral and Mrs. Croft. Four days since she had heard of Frederick's plans to leave Bath, and she still had had no word from him.

"There is to be another concert this evening," Elizabeth observed, glancing over a newspaper.

"Oh?" her father asked. "What will be playing?"

Elizabeth read out the programme, a list of new pieces that drew little or no recognition from the room's occupants. "It will be worth attending merely to escape these walls!" she declared, folding the newspaper and laying it aside.

"Is our company stifling you, Elizabeth?" Mr. Elliot asked, leaning over and lifting a chess piece, before setting it down, thoughtfully, in a new position. "Sir Walter, I believe I have just placed your king in check."

"What?" Sir Walter forced his attention back to the languid game he and Mr. Elliot had been playing for the length of the afternoon. He grumbled quietly to himself as he attempted to evade the manoeuvre.

"Your company is never stifling, Mr. Elliot. No more yours, Lady Russell," Elizabeth said, turning an ingratiating smile on the two guests who had spent much of the day with them. "It is just this weather! I would dearly love to go for a walk, to see people and get some fresh air, but if one is to be drowned by stepping more than two feet out of doors, there is no question of walking anywhere!"

"Anne, what do you think?" Lady Russell asked. She had been watching her god-daughter carefully, and whilst Anne made every appearance of reading the book she held in front of her, Lady Russell had noticed it had been almost a quarter-hour since she had turned a page.

"I do not mind the rain," Anne answered, looking up from her book for just the briefest of moments. "It affords one time for reading and reflecting."

"And what are you reflecting on?" Mr. Elliot stood, crossing the small room and settling into the chaise nearest Anne. He leaned forward, tilting the book slightly so he could ascertain its title. "Poetry? Why, it seems all this talk of romance has yet managed to penetrate your rational mind," he smiled. "Where is the good Captain? I do not believe he has been in this place this few days. Surely you are wild with loss at his prolonged absence."

Anne closed her book with a thud.

"He has been taken away on - on business." Anne's voice faltered. "To Shropshire, I believe. To visit his brother."

"His brother?" Elizabeth interrupted. "Who - oh, of course, the curate." She unfolded the newspaper and began to scan its contents once more, evidently deeming Frederick Wentworth's brother of even less significance than Frederick himself.

"Here, Mr. Elliot," Sir Walter called. "It appears I was not quite bested. If I move thus -" He exaggerated lifting his piece, and placing it down again, so that his genius might be seen even from halfway across the room. "I evade your attempt on my king." He chuckled. "And now it is your turn."

Mr. Elliot flicked an apologetic glance at Anne, which went largely unnoticed, and returned to his seat opposite Sir Walter, turning his attention back to their game.

Mrs. Clay, who had up to now sat in a state of near perfect silence, was drawn into a discussion with Elizabeth over a newspaper advertisement pertaining to bonnets, and Anne was left alone with her thoughts once more. _I am not sure how long he intends being away,_ Sophia Croft had said. Anne had wanted to find out more, but their conversation was curtailed by a crack of thunder, and the rain that had kept her sister uncomfortably indoors for the past four days had also kept Anne from visiting her friend for a fuller account of Frederick's flight. They had not spoken a word since their return from Captain Benwick's wedding, since she had told him of her father's desire to delay the wedding. He had received her note, she felt sure of that, for what else would have caused him to so abruptly to depart Bath? _But why?_ She knew him well by now, ought to understand his motives, but in this case she was lost. It merely brought back memories of the last time he had left - when she had dissolved their first engagement, and he had written her one sad, short note and disappeared from her life, she had feared forever. Was history about to repeat itself? _But I didn_ _'t dissolve our engagement - I made it clear in my note that any thought of delay was my father's alone, that if the concern was only mine we could marry without hesitation. Surely he must know how I feel._

"Anne." Lady Russell was standing before her. "Come, let us take a turn about the room."

"This room?" Anne asked, blinking in surprise at the request. "Why, 'tis hardly large enough -"

"Nonsense," Lady Russell said. "It is quite adequate to our purpose. You have sat still all the morning, no doubt your limbs are aching for a little activity. I know mine are, and if the weather is not conducive to walking outside, well, we must walk inside."

Obediently Anne stood, and allowed Lady Russell to lead her on a gentle circuit of the room.

"You are very quiet this morning," Lady Russell observed.

"I was greatly occupied by reading my book," Anne said. "I did not mean to appear rude."

"Oh I assure you you did not appear so." Lady Russell paused. "Not to me, at least, but recall you have another visitor who also might desire your attention and conversation." She peered meaningfully towards the chess game Mr. Elliot was one move away from winning.

Anne swallowed. She had known her apparent coldness towards Mr. Elliot would not go unnoticed by her observant friend, if not by that gentleman himself. And yet she could not bring herself to make conversation with him, when upon his arrival she had for half a moment entertained the hope it might be Captain Wentworth. It had been a double blow of disappointment to recognise first that her fiancé was still absent, and second that the arrival was in fact Mr. Elliot, a man she was so disinclined to spend time with for reasons she could not begin to number to Lady Russell.

"Mr. Elliot appears perfectly satisfied in his chess game," Anne whispered. "See, he is victor, and now he joins my sister and Mrs. Clay for a discussion of the week's entertainments. He hardly requires conversation from me to occupy his time."

"And yet I fear that is how he would much rather spend his time." Lady Russell dropped her voice so low that Anne had to lean in to hear her. "Do you not wonder that he charms your family in order to spend time with you?"

Anne choked back a laugh.

"Do you think that is what he is doing? I hardly think so." She turned away from the party at the table. "If Mr. Elliot intends to charm anybody it is Elizabeth. He knows I am to be married, and even if I wasn't -" She hesitated, unwilling to give voice to the rest of her sentence, in case by doing so she tempted fate and her absent suitor remained absent ever longer.

"Yet surely he recognises your superiority -" Lady Russell paused, visibly calculating how best to phrase her comment so as not to commit an offense against Sir Walter's eldest daughter in the process of complimenting the one she walked with. "Superiority in terms of likeness, I mean," she continued, smoothly. "For you and he share such like opinions, so many interests the same. It was clear - to me, at least - of your suitability upon your first arrival here at Bath. Indeed, many mentioned the pleasing picture you made as a couple. The expectation was that you two would announce a connection any day, and so this sudden betrothal to Captain Wentworth seemed quite out of character…"

"And yet that is precisely what has happened," Anne said, an irritated tone coming into her usually soft voice. "And I had believed my friends were happy for us - indeed, his cannot contain their enthusiasm for our marriage. It saddens me that I cannot say the same of you." Anne made a motion to leave and return to her seat, but Lady Russell placed a hand on her arm to delay her.

"Forgive me, Anne, I meant no harm by my comments. Yet it seems that your likelihood to take offense where none was intended has been learned from your Captain. A more temperamental individual I have yet to meet."

"I hardly think that is a fair assessment," Anne said. "In fact, he has borne well with family and friends who, until now, viewed him as quite less than he is. Can you blame him for bearing a grudge?"

"Forgiveness is a virtue, Anne," Lady Russell continued. "Why, look at Mr. Elliot. He himself was cast out of your house and kept from your father's circle for half a decade, yet now they converse as friends - as equals - both being willing to forgive the past and move forward. It is an example worth emulating. Your Captain Wentworth has always had too sharp a temper, and I told him it would serve him ill if he did not better learn to conform with the social circle you rightfully occupy -"

"When did you say such a thing?" Anne asked, casting her mind back to the party Lady Russell had hosted. Had this been the conversation Frederick had endured at dinner, the near-constant criticism of his manners? That would be enough to try any man's patience.

"Oh, it was many years ago now." Lady Russell brushed away Anne's concern. "Indeed even I am forced to acknowledge how much improved he is by his years in the Navy. I am sure his increased wealth and position cannot have gone unnoticed by others here at Bath, and perhaps he would be better suited to another -"

Anne was so irritated by her friend's comments that she would be restrained no longer.

"Excuse me," she said, wrenching her arm free. "I think I have walked enough. I wish to fetch another book to read." She stepped towards the door, ignoring the look Lady Russell sent after her, and barely noticing whether her sudden exit was remarked upon, or even noticed, by the room's other occupants.

Hurrying to her room, Anne reached for her Bible, flipping it open to the pages which held the letters of Frederick's she had saved. She sorted through them, her shaking fingers seeking out the familiar note - not his most recent epistle but another she had received some eight years previously. Its penmanship was far neater than the one she treasured, its contents shorter and all the more damning for its brevity.

 _Miss. Elliot -_ he wrote. Not _My Dear_ nor even _Anne_ : this was a letter between strangers. _It has been brought to my attention that despite our seeming connection, our marriage can never be, for we are too dissimilar and I therefore accept your refusal with all haste. With regret, F. W._

How many times had she read over this short note, sought out additional meaning in its few words? The sheet of paper was fragile with wear, its contents blurred from the tears she had shed over it. And yet she had always taken his _it has been brought to my attention_ to be merely a reference to her refusal, that the harm caused was all hers. Was it possible something more had happened to prompt his leaving than merely her reluctant rejection?

She crumpled the letter to her chest, and sighed. How could she find the truth, now that he was not here to ask?


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N - Thank you for sticking with me this far! Only a few more chapters before we reach "the end" - we are so close to "happily ever after"... I hope you are still enjoying the story and thank you again for all the reads, favourites and comments so far!_

 _ **Too Late?**_

Frederick's journey back to Bath, though just as long, was not nearly so fraught as his flight down to Shropshire had been. Indeed, he felt rather calmer about his person, now that the question of the marriage ceremony was settled with Edward. His brother had understood his problem almost without needing it explained, and had offered to procure the licence for Frederick without further delay or appeal. He had helped Frederick to secure lodgings in the parish, and would happily help him through the four weeks' residency until the wedding could take place.

Frederick reached the Crofts' lodgings with first light, and turned straight to his chambers to snatch a couple of hours of sleep. His problems thus resolved, he felt his anxiety lessen and he fell straight to sleep immediately his head hit the pillow, waking just a few hours later as he discerned life and movement elsewhere in the house.

"Frederick! Good morning!" Admiral Croft greeted him as he entered the breakfast room. "I thought I heard you arrive at some ungodly hour this morning."

"How was your trip?" Sophia asked, looking at him carefully over the table.

"Satisfactory," he said, sitting down. "Although tiring. And I have hardly eaten this past twenty four hours." He reached for a bread roll and began to spread it thickly with preserves. His sister watched him with interest, clearly waiting for further information, but he continued to eat, ignoring her scrutiny.

"Frederick!" she cried, after a few moments of this. "How can you torment me like this! _Satisfactory_. Well? What does that mean? Is Edward to marry you and Anne or not? Should the Admiral and I begin planning our trip with you to Shropshire?"

"Edward is organising the licence, and he will be pleased to perform the ceremony," Frederick said. "Once I have been resident in Shropshire for four weeks, as is the legal requirement. I have already secured lodgings, and will return there in a few days, once I have spoken to Anne." He glanced up at his sister, who frustration had melted into a broad smile. "And yes, I do hope you will both come to the wedding."

"Of course!" Admiral Croft said. "We wouldn't miss it for the world, would we Sophy? You've not seen Anne to discuss your plans?"

"Not yet." Frederick crammed the last of the bread roll into his mouth. "I am hoping to call on her this morning. Perhaps you would be good enough to accompany me?"

"Yes, I think that is something we could probably manage," Admiral Croft smiled at him. "We ran into Anne the other day, and she was quite surprised to know that you had left us. No doubt she will be well pleased to have you back again, where you belong."

"I'm not sure about that," Frederick said. "I still do not think Bath and I will ever be comfortable together. But as Anne is here, at least in the moment, we will tolerate one another until such time as we are allowed, again, to part." He noticed a shadow cross his sister's face. "What's the matter, Sophy? Is not my news enough to cheer you?"

"Why, yes," she said, patting him gently on the hand. "I am delighted. And I am sure Anne will be too."

Her tone of voice didn't quite match her words, and she hesitated particularly over Anne's name, such that Frederick quite paused his meal to regard her carefully.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"Come, you've never succeeded well with untruth. Let's have it. Are you questioning my wisdom in arranging this without Anne's knowledge, knowing her father's wishes are quite possibly against it? You fear my plan will backfire?"

"No." Sophia said. She glanced at her husband a moment before continuing. "I think - I think it will all be well, once you speak to Anne. Only…" She hesitated. "I think you ought to try to speak to her soon. Today."

Something in his sister's manner gave Frederick pause. She didn't seem angry at him, or worried about his plans, rather her anxiety seemed centred on Anne herself.

"Is something else the matter, Sophy?" he asked, trying to discern the truth from what she didn't say, as much as what she did.

"I am quite sure it is nothing," she said. "Let's finish our meal, and you can tell me more about Edward. Are he and Mary well settled in Shropshire? And happy, I hope? We have not managed yet to visit or even to meet the woman who is now our sister. Is she intelligent? Interesting? I need not ask if she is pretty, for I know Edward well enough…"

She talked on, her words running one into another, but Frederick did not interrupt her. He could tell that she was uncomfortable with his questions and this, in turn, made him wish to question all the more, to uncover the truth behind the problem she had so vaguely alluded to. _I think you ought to try to speak to Anne soon. Today._ What was it about delaying now that had his sister so concerned, when just a few days previously she had been counselling him to be patient? What had happened while he was away?

Turning the matter over in his mind, he continued with his breakfast, answering Sophia's questions about Edward and Mary as well as he could, though nowhere near as precisely as she might have wished. Indeed, he had hardly noticed certain pertinent details she mentioned, and could give no answer in the affirmative or otherwise over the particulars of their home, beyond the fact that it was comfortable, and the two seemed very happily settled there.

"I look forward to visiting them and seeing for myself what sort of husband Edward makes, for I never doubted his abilities as a minister, but as head of a household…well, that will be a sight to behold. Do you think he expects us to attend the wedding?"

"I rather think he does, Sophy," Frederick said, draining the last of his tea, and placing the cup down. "For despite waiting the requisite four weeks and obtaining a licence, we will still need witnesses."

He glanced at the clock. Early, yes, but not so early that a morning call would be considered uncivilised, even among such as the Elliots.

"If you will give me leave, I think I will go and call on Anne presently, before yet more time elapses. You are right, I ought not to act any further without discussing my plans with her," he smiled, stood, and pretended not to notice the anxious glance Sophia exchanged with her husband.

Bath was dry, at least. The confounded rain that had pursued him north and begun to clear while he was in Shropshire and he was relieved to see it gone upon his return to town, though the weather could hardly be said to have improved. He pulled his collar up, warding off the unseasonable chill in the crisp morning air, and walked the relatively short distance to Sir Walter's rooms barely noticing the people he passed. Barely noticing, that is, until Sir Walter's door opened and someone strode out of the house and into the street. Frederick stopped short, pausing a moment to identify the figure. Recognising Mr. William Elliot he swallowed the urge to call after him. He need not renew their connection quite yet, possessing little enough in common that any conversation beyond a basic greeting would be stilted at best. _Besides, Mr. William Elliot is not who I am here to see._ He reminded himself. He waited a moment in a doorway to allow the man time to clear out before interrupting the house again, when a second figure appeared behind Mr. Elliot. Here, Frederick's heart leapt into his mouth as he recognised Anne - his own Anne - follow Mr. Elliot down the street. True, they did not walk arm in arm, but they walked together. He did not call out this time out of shock and surprise, and his mind flew back to the morning's breakfast table. Was this what Sophia had been thinking of when she had anxiously encouraged him to seek Anne out?

Telling himself he ought to return home, and call later when Anne was sure to be home again, he nonetheless found himself walking down the street after the two departing figures, at a pace where he could be sure to keep them in view, yet not so close that either one of them might notice him.

 _Isn_ _'t it wonderful how Anne and Mr. Elliot enjoy one another's company!_ Lady Russell's insidious comment from several nights earlier appeared as if from nowhere and wound itself around and around his brain.

 _What destination could they possibly wish to attend together?_ He wondered. Although they had shared connections, the majority of those would still be back at the house. To leave, and to leave together suggested a shared purpose…but of what nature?

Despite his better judgment he continued to follow them, his mind conjuring a thousand possibilities, from the sensible to the absurd and spanning every continent between, so that he barely knew what to think when he realised with a start that they had slowed. He had grown close - too close. Ducking quickly around a corner so that he would not be seen, he hesitated, weighing his next move. It was then that he began to recognise the street he had followed them to, and the very house they were about to enter. It belonged to Lady Russell.

"Are you quite sure we ought to call on her together like this?" Anne asked, her voice tentative and unsure. How Frederick longed to reach out to her and ask for some explanation - for he dearly believed there must be some explanation other than the one that was currently coursing through his brain.

"I think she would be pleased to see both of us, do not you, Cousin?" Mr. Elliot said. Frederick did not have to see his face to picture the smug half-smile it would be wearing, to give his words that amused lilt.

A moment longer and they had been admitted across the threshold and into the house. When Frederick stepped out once more onto the street it was deserted. He was alone.


	18. Chapter 18

"Anne how lovely to see you, and in such pleasing company!" Lady Russell was all welcome, standing to greet her guests as Anne and Mr. Elliot were ushered into her sitting room.

"I wanted to apologise if my behaviour seemed a little short the last time we met," Anne said, crossing the room and embracing her godmother briefly.

"Not at all, dear," Lady Russell said. "I could tell there was something important on your mind." Her eyes danced between Anne and Mr. Elliot. "Come, let's all sit down and I shall order us tea and we can talk, for it seems to me you both have news to impart."

Anne glanced at Mr. Elliot, wondering if his thoughts matched her own. Evidently Lady Russell had drawn her own - false - conclusions from their decision to call together. It was something she had borne a concern over, but only for a short time. There had been no way to refuse his offer of company without causing offence, and she decided that he might as well hear what she had to say - it was as necessary for his hearing as for Lady Russell's. This way she need only gather her courage and say her piece once, and for that she was grateful.

The tray of tea things arrived, and once everyone was equipped with a drink, Lady Russell turned to Mr. Elliot.

"Well, am I to be kept in suspense? What news do you have to share?"

"It is merely to inform you I plan to leave Bath rather sooner than I had previously intended. In fact I had called on Sir Walter this morning to bid him goodbye, as I plan to travel to London directly." His voice seemed laden with a meaning that Anne could not quite fathom, although Lady Russell seemed instinctively to understand it.

"Indeed," Mr. Elliot continued. "I merely imposed my company upon Anne when I heard she intended upon visiting you this morning. I wanted to thank you for your hospitality and support, and pray that we may continue our acquaintance when next our paths cross."

Anne was watching Lady Russell as Mr. Elliot spoke, and noticed the light in her friend's eyes dim just a fraction.

"Well, naturally I am disappointed to hear this," Lady Russell said. "Naturally I had hoped that you were coming to share news of an altogether different nature. But perhaps things will change on that score in the future." She turned to Anne. "Now, Anne, what did you wish to discuss, for I gather from your face there is something you, too, are holding back."

Anne took a sip of her tea, and tried to still her nerves, reminding herself just what she wished to say herself. She might lack the confidence and easy eloquence of Mr. Elliot, but that did not mean she would struggle to speak. She had spent half the previous evening planning her words, so that she would not be rushed, or muddled, but able to speak clearly and succinctly and - she hoped - put the matter to rest while still preserving something of their friendship. A little after midnight, stripped of the desire to continue to appease her godmother, she had given up that hope entirely. If Lady Russell had truly interfered in Anne's happiness to the extent Anne suspected - without admitting to it - and continued to do so, Anne no longer had any qualms about dissolving their close friendship. She wold not, out of loyalty to her mother, cast her godmother aside, far from it, but this point marked the end of their closest connection, a severence that Anne did not feel likely they would easily repair. She took a deep, fortifying breath, and looked up at her friend.

"Lady Russell, I have been turning over our conversation from yesterday for much of the evening and wanted to revisit a word or two you said in order to clarify their meaning." She glanced back at Mr. Elliot. "You do not mind?"

"Of course not!" Mr. Elliot said. "In fact, I think I may peruse your library a moment, Lady Russell, if you do not mind."

Lady Russell nodded in acquiescence, but Anne could tell that Mr. Elliot's departure from the room, leaving the ladies alone, was further still from her desired outcome. She let him go because she had to, not because she wished to.

"Now, Anne," She continued, as soon as Mr. Elliot was out of ear-shot. "Do speak plainly. Have you not come this morning with Mr. Elliot to see me and announce that you two have formed a connection? We both know extraction from such an engagement as you have fixed with Captain Wentworth is not easy, but it is manageable, if you will allow me to help you -"

"Formed a connection with Mr. Elliot?" Anne laughed. "Why, Lady Russell, you are teasing me, surely? You know I am already engaged to Frederick, and hardly likely to cast him aside for another, especially not one so untrustworthy as Mr. Elliot."

Lady Russell's face flooded with colour, but she kept her lips drawn together and maintained her silence.

"I feared you had developed an idea that we were growing close, and wanted to set your mind at ease. Indeed, it is even better now that he shares his plans to leave Bath, for I am sure his staying on would lead to confusion for Elizabeth next. You have no need to worry, I am not straying from my decision."

"But, Captain Wentworth -"

"Is who I intend to marry," Anne said. She set down her cup of tea, and looked carefully at her godmother. "It was he I wished to talk to you about, and had I been able to extract myself from Mr. Elliot's company and come to see you alone I would have, but he was quite adamant in his wishes to visit you also." She shook her head. "I wished to confirm a suspicion I have held since our conversation yesterday, and I hope, whatever your reasons, you will speak truthfully, for whilst our opinions often differ I have never considered you anything less than truthful."

"Indeed I have never wilfully withheld anything from you, Anne," Lady Russell said. "It hurts me that you think me capable of falsehood with one I value as highly as I would my own daughter -"

"Did you meet with Frederick eight years ago, after we had told you of our intent to marry?" Anne hurried her words out, fearing that if she did not speak them directly she would lose all nerve and opportunity.

"I -" Lady Russell hesitated. "Why, you know I barely knew Captain Wentworth, indeed I had barely even heard his name spoken when you announced that you were to marry. I advised you of the folly of your actions in the clearest way I knew how, as I am sure your dear mother would have done, had she still been alive. But your decision to end your connection was, if you recall, all your own."

"Yes," Anne said, swallowing. "Yes, I own it - the error was all mine, in making such a decision so quickly, after seeking your advice on the matter. But you know, Frederick was unhappy to hear of my change of heart. Indeed, he attempted to persuade me otherwise -"

"Because he cares little for your independence, Anne. He has always possessed a certainty of purpose - his own purpose - giving little regard for the feelings of others -"

"As have you!" Anne said, becoming frustrated. Her words hit Lady Russell almost as a physical blow, and the woman visibly recoiled.

"I am sorry," Anne faltered. "I did not mean that." She closed her eyes, massaging her forehead and wiling herself to recall the sane, simple words she had written out last evening. She could remember only snippets, and the least helpful among them.

"Yesterday, you said that you had told Frederick he would never fit into the society I occupied, that we were too different."

"An opinion I still hold has truth to it," Lady Russell said.

"But don't you understand, it was that meeting that decided him once and for all to leave, and never to return."

Lady Russell stood, walking towards the window.

"Captain Wentworth did come to see me. In all honesty I believed you were aware of our conversation. I never thought to mention it, because I feared you saw the truth in it and took as a personal slight my assertion that he was far below your social class, lacking in refinement and intelligence. It reflected poorly on you that you so eagerly allied with one so vastly inferior to yourself."

Anne bit her lip, eager to contradict Lady Russell's cruel assessment of Frederick, yet unwilling to move, lest that caused her to stop talking. Anne cared only for the truth at that moment: she would address her comments later.

"He came to see me," Lady Russell continued, "not long after also visiting your father, wherein he countered every objection your poor father could think to raise with a solution. I was not so easily overcome. I raised my concerns - those same concerns I shared with you, Anne, about your dissimilarity of status and temperament, and still he persisted in declaring his love for you, and that if you could only be together the rest would come good in the end." Lady Russell's eyes hardened. "I dare say now he would claim the wisdom in his words, but at the time, his distinction in the navy and financial elevation were far from certain. And I note he still possesses a level of pride in his achievements and worth as a person I do not quite credit." Her voice turned scornful. "The man is a sailor, nothing more, and I assured him that I would not stand by and let my god-daughter throw away her future prospects on such a man. I would not allow it. I will not allow it."

There was a knock at the door, but neither lady moved, scarcely even heard it. Anne finally saw her godmother for who she was, and recognised her part in wilfully separating Anne from Frederick all these years. Even now, she still persisted in attempting to undermine their relationship, showing that despite her pretence of care for Anne she still gave no true consideration to her ability to think for herself.

"You have no say in the matter," Anne said, standing. Her breathing was ragged with agitation, and where she tried to think coherently what to say next her thoughts vanished like mist. Still she heard her words tumbling out one after another without first passing through her mind, so that they were almost a surprise to her directly she heard them.

"I have allowed myself to be led by you, and now I see that was foolishness on my part. Foolishness to trust that you truly know what is best for me. You may claim to intervene only for my benefit, but I assure you the past eight years have not been to my benefit, nor will my future be if you destroy my happiness again." She drew in a shaky breath. "I do love Frederick, and I always have. I know my own mind and am not so easily swayed - by anyone!"


	19. Chapter 19

A/N - Another stray chapter - I'm so sorry that this had gone missing, but thank you for alerting me to it! Will try to check over my other stories when I get chance to make sure the same thing isn't happening elsewhere...

Enjoy! xx

* * *

Frederick had reasoned with himself thus: he had no desire to call on Lady Russell, and certainly no reason to, regardless of the fact that he had just seen Anne enter her house. Whether accompanied by Mr. Elliot or not, Frederick still had no reason to follow her, and ought to just leave, return to Sophia and the Admiral's house, and be content to call on Anne at her father's house some time later in the day. That Anne chose to call on Lady Russell was hardly a surprise, and there would be a sensible explanation for Mr. Elliot's accompanying her, he did not doubt it. He tried not to dwell on the snippet of conversation he had overheard, realising that taking two lines together completely without context was no way to ascertain meaning. He ought to return home, immediately. He would. He would turn around and retrace his steps –

And yet almost in spite of his reasoned intentions, he found himself marching straight up to Lady Russell's door and knocking. Quite before he had time to correct his course, or to conjure up a reason for being there, her housekeeper had opened the door, and greeted him with a subservient, "yes?"

"Ah…I'm here to see Lady Russell -" Frederick stammered. "That is, I hoped to call on –" Before he could clarify further - and quite how he intended to clarify further he hadn't yet worked out - the housekeeper had pulled the door open a little wider and ushered him into the corridor. Lady Russell's rooms seemed different in daylight, and lacking the conviviality of their evening gathering, which did not help Frederick's feeling of apprehension. Put him in charge of a ship at sea, put him under fire from an enemy, and he would thrive. To find himself walking towards another reluctant appointment with Lady Russell, he could scarcely control his breathing.

The housekeeper hesitated at the door of the sitting room, and it did not take Frederick long to ascertain why, as the sound of raised voices reached his ears.

"…I assure you the past eight years have not been to my benefit, nor will my future be if you destroy my happiness again," he heard, and his heart rate increased. That was Anne speaking! Anne sounding so unlike herself that it took all of his focus not to push past the housekeeper to see what was the matter. There was a moment's pause, and the servant glanced back at him, anxiously.

"I am not sure…" he began, but when Anne spoke again Frederick heard nothing but her voice, and the words he had so longed to hear this past few days.

"I do love Frederick, and I always have. I know my own mind and am not so easily swayed - by anyone!"

The door opened suddenly, and Anne swept out, almost colliding with the housekeeper and stopping short when she saw him standing there.

"Frederick?" her agitation was plain in the flash of fire in her eyes, the paleness of her features.

"Are you alright?" he asked, swallowing his own interest in what conversation had led to such an outburst from usually mild-mannered Anne.

"Captain Wentworth?" Lady Russell called, coming to the door after Anne. "Why, I did not hear you arrive." Her words were smooth, but he could tell from the breathless energy that underpinned her movements that she, too, was quite taken aback by her exchange with Anne, and further unsettled by his sudden appearance in her home.

"No, and I fear it is not really a good time for me to call anyway, Lady Russell." He glanced at Anne. "If you'll excuse me, I will escort Anne home -" he hesitated, wondering whether he ought to say more, but, at a loss for words, instead seized on the nearest occupation open to him, and led Anne gently out of the house.

"I didn't hear you come in," Anne said, her breath hitching. "I didn't know you were here- in Bath, I mean. Sophia said - and you never mentioned - and -" They had begun to walk down the street, but it was clear to Frederick that Anne's mind was still scattered after her confrontation with Lady Russell.

"It is of no consequence," he said. "I confess, I only knocked on Lady Russell's door when I saw you enter." He dropped his gaze. "It was foolishness, and had I realised you were having such a difference of opinions I might have steered clear altogether." He led them over to a nearby bench. "Anne, what happened?"

"It was nothing," she said, sucking in air and trying hard to downplay the effects of her confrontation with her friend.

"Hardly nothing, Anne, if it has you so flustered. What did Lady Russell say?"

Anne kept her eyes averted from his, and he worried for half a moment that he had misheard or misunderstood her declaration of love.

"I didn't know -" Anne began. "I had no idea -"

Frederick opened his mouth, and then closed it, saying nothing. He would wait for Anne to collect her thoughts such that she could explain to him in her own way what had happened. After this week of mis-communication and misunderstanding, he owed her his patience now.

"I didn't know that she was the reason you left," Anne said, finally. "Eight years ago, when I ended our engagement, you tried to make me see your point of view, and I was stubborn, I had allowed myself to be led -"

Frederick shifted, in spite of his promise to stay quiet. He did not wish to see Anne take all the blame for their parting upon herself.

"I was stubborn, as well," he admitted. "I took you at your word, too much at your word -"

"But you tried to find a way through." Anne said. "You tried to show me a clearer picture, an answer to Lady Russell's and my father's objections. I might have been persuaded…" her voice dropped. "I _ought to have been_ persuaded to think on the matter more carefully. Until I received your last note, and realised I had missed my chance. You were gone.."

Frederick frowned, recalling at length the note he had scribbled off mere hours before he had left Somerset - and Anne - for good.

"I was angry…" He frowned. "Lady Russell is right on that score, I had a temper then. I have it now, though I have learnt better to manage it - only -"

"No, that is precisely my point. Lady Russell wasn't right to say those things to you. I did not know, until yesterday, that she had." Anne finally lifted her eyes back to Frederick's, and he saw the flash of anger in them had kindled into a deeper feeling. "You went to see her without me, didn't you? You attempted to talk to her -"

"Alas it was not to be." Frederick said, with a grim smile. "She put me well enough in my place, and I realised that with so firm a will to see you otherwise married, I would never manage to win you. And so I retreated." He sighed. "It is a decision I will always regret. I could have stayed, tried again. Two years later, even, when I came back, I could have tried again, but I was still too angry. I knew, through enquiries to my brother, that Lady Russell's interests were still entwined with yours, and I thought myself too good to risk running into either of you again. You recall, I stayed far away from Somerset that whole year, until I was able to put out to sea again?" He smiled. "Rather, it is vanity to assume you kept any interest in me at all. No doubt you barely knew what happened to me in those intervening years."

"I did." Anne admitted, shyly coming back to herself. "I haunted the Navy lists, watched the newspapers for mention of you. When the Musgroves mentioned Richard's _Captain Wentworth_ I could barely trust to hope it might be you…"

"Yes, how strange that we should have that connection, through such a man as Dick Musgrove." He sighed. "And yet, were it not for that link I may never have ridden over to Uppercross from Kellynch, and then our paths may not have crossed again."

He reached for Anne's hand, and took hold of it.

"Again, I must apologise for acting rashly these past days. Sophy was quite right, I did leave Bath. I went to Shropshire, to visit my brother." He swallowed. "I confess I was angry - oh, not at you - but when I received your note about Sir Walter's desire to delay, again, I could do nought but think back to that day eight years ago when my plans, though successful around your father, were successfully _routed_ by Lady Russell. I saw it happening again, and felt powerless to stop it." He paused.

"So you went to Shropshire." Anne prompted, with a gentle nod.

"Yes. I thought - or rather, Sophy thought, for it was she who made the suggestion - that if your father had objections to our marrying so soon _in Bath_ , that perhaps an alternative might better suit our purposes." He hesitated slightly over the next, wondering if she would be agreeable to the suggestion or think it unseemly, as if they were sneaking away to wed in secret rather than marrying in the open. "My brother, as you know, is a clergyman now based in Shropshire. He has consented to marry us, as soon as ever we like. He is arranging a licence, and I have taken the liberty of securing a property there - in order that we might have the licence, you see, for it is necessary that one of us at least resides in his parish. It is a small house, and once we are married we need not stay there long if it does not suit you, but I thought - at least this way -"

He did not finish speaking before Anne had thrown her arms around him.

"You approve of the plan, then?" He asked, when she released him such that he could speak again.

"I do. It is far better than marrying in Bath, for you know I rarely felt happy here - until you came."

"I do not know if your father will attend, or Lady Russell…"

Anne's face took on a new, confident air and she raised her chin.

"I am not concerned. For you will be there, and your family." A thought struck her. "Oh, do tell me your sister and Admiral Croft will come?"

"I don't think we could manage to have a wedding without them!" Frederick laughed. He felt all of his anxieties melt away as Anne considered Shropshire. Never once had she poured scorn on the idea, nor even mentioned any lack of understanding on his part. He regarded her with interest, for she seemed at once the Anne he had known and loved this eight and a half years, and yet equally different. A new, braver Anne sat in her place.


	20. Chapter 20

_A/L - Thank you so much to the observant reader who noticed this chapter had disappeared! Not quite sure what happened there, but I have been moving a few things around to accommodate for posting new chapters on different stories. I expect it was down to me and user error, d'oh._

 _Anyway, thank you for mentioning it, and I'm now going to check there's nothing else gone astray. I am so sorry for the inconvenience!_

 _Here's the *actual* ending of_ After the Letter _:)_

* * *

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" Anne asked.

She and Frederick had begun to walk once more, but instead of returning straight to Sir Walter's rooms they took a leisurely stroll around Bath proper, merely enjoying the chance to be together again, and think and talk over their plans.

"Looking at you how? As if I admire you and am grateful we are to be married?"

Anne laughed at his compliment.

"As if you aren't quite sure you recognise me."

"I'm not quite sure that I do!" Frederick admitted. He swallowed. "I never once thought you would stand up to Lady Russell so stridently, and now that you have…I admit I am a little in awe of you."

"Don't be ridiculous," Anne protested. "I merely spoke my mind -"

"Exactly. And you refused to allow her to persuade you from it. I imagine that she quite struggled to know how to respond."

Anne felt a flicker of guilt. "Do you think I went too far? She is an old friend, after all, and really all I have left of my mother -"

"In which case she will forgive you," Frederick said, pulling her closer as they walked. "She knows you are an adult, and a reasoning, rational one at that. She cannot take objection to you displaying characteristic that she herself possesses: that she herself encouraged you in."

They walked on a few steps further before Anne smiled up at him.

"That sounded dangerously close to a compliment. Whoever thought the day would arrive when Frederick Wentworth would compliment Lady Russell on her ability to reason."

"Well, now, hold on a moment -" Frederick protested, but he caught Anne's smile and the need for clarification was lost.

"I confess your outburst surprised me too," he said, after a few moments more.

"You were not intended to hear it." Anne said, feeling embarrassment colour her cheeks and wishing that she could take back the last hour - and yet, not, for it had brought her Frederick back again.

"No, but I am glad that I did," Frederick said. "I rather like that the shy Anne I fell I love with has become brave enough to stand up to tyrants who would sway her."

"Lady Russell is a tyrant, now?"

"Believe me, I have thought worse of her," Frederick admitted, with a grim smile.

"You should have told me," Anne said. "I would never have insisted we attend her party if I had known the truth of what she did to part us." She frowned. "Even while you were away this past few days she still tried to suggest I would be better suited to another."

"Mr. Elliot, by any chance?"

"Why, yes -" Anne said. She glanced up at him, but his features were unmoved. "You knew?"

"I knew she preferred him to me - though I would go as far as to suggest almost anybody would be preferable to a _penniless sailor_." He laughed, the insult no longer causing him any pain, now that he had Anne by his side.

"I am curious as to your thoughts on the man, though," he continued, and Anne could distinguish his interest, despite the casual tone he adopted. Truly, they had never spoken of Mr. Eliot in all the time they had been together. "When I came back to Bath, I remained convinced of your close attachment. Did you really never consider him?"

"Never," Anne said. "He was charming - _is_ charming, nobody can refute that." Frederick did not react, but she thought she distinguished a groan, low in his throat. "But to me he never seemed quite trustworthy. His interest in me was confusing, for you know at one point it was expected he would marry my sister."

Anne frowned, recalling the ball where Elizabeth's hopes of marrying Mr. Elliot had finally, once and for all, been crushed by the news of his engagement. It was at that ball that she met Frederick for the first time, and an altogether different love story had captured her senses.

"Lady Russell saw a potential solution to my family's problems in our marriage."

"Oh?" Frederick stopped walking, and regarded her.

"My father's title - Kellynch, too, I suppose - will go to Mr. Elliot in the fullness of time. If I were to marry him, I would remain at Kellynch, and free to continue living at home all the rest of my days."

"But that isn't your wish?" Frederick's voice was strangely terse.

"I have spent many years living quietly, and travelled so rarely that the thought of seeing any new place is thrilling to me," Anne said. "You recall, how I enjoyed Lyme - enjoyed, and endured, rather."

"I, too," Frederick said.

"But I think for rather different reasons than me," Anne said. "For I was meeting your friends, seeing your life on display - the life that would have been mine, if only we had married when we first intended." Her voice dropped. "I was sad to think that life had slipped through my fingers, never to be held onto, or experienced."

Frederick reached up and laced his fingers through hers.

"It didn't slip away entirely. A few weeks, a month, and our next chapter can begin."

Anne smiled, and leaned into him, feeling perfectly happy and at peace. Nothing could shake her, not the thought of informing her father and Lady Russell of their plans, not the worry of uprooting and departing Bath - for leaving Bath was hardly a trial, but leaving her family and friends would be difficult - yet even that could not take away from the happy knowledge that she and Frederick loved each other, and would spend the rest of their lives together, never to be parted again.

 _The End_


End file.
